THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


c**» 


,, 

/        f        ' '  , rrf  ''     S 


BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 


B  T 


GEORGE  CANNING  HILL 


NEW  YORK 
JOHN  W.  LOVELL  COMPAN1 

150  WOKTH  STHEET,  CORNER  MISSION 


tw 


CONTENTS 


VS 

c*- 

PO 


CHAPTER    I. 

PAGE. 
YOUTH    AND    EARLY    MANHOOD, 7 

CHAPTER    II. 

TAKING    OF    TICONDEROGA,  28 

CHAPTER    III. 

IN    THE    WILDERNESS,  .......       51 

CHAPTER    IV. 

GOING    AGAINST    QUEBEC,          .  i  .....     80 

CHAPTER    V. 

TIBST  NAVAL  BATTLE  WITH  ENGLAND,        .  .  106 

1* 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    VI. 

PAGE. 
INJUSTICE    TO   ARNOLD,  .  ..-.-.  .  .129 

CHAPTER    VII. 

THE   NORTHERN    ARMT  .  ....    152 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE  BATTLES  OF  BKMI8  HEIGHTS, 170 

CHAPTER   IX. 

ARNOLD    AT    PHILADELPHIA, 197 

CHAPTER    X 

PLOTTING    TREASON,          .  .  .  .  .  .  .  •    213 

CHAPTER   -Xt. 

TAKEN    IN    THE    TOILS,  . 237 

CHAPTER    XII. 
ANDRE'S  EXECUTION,    .        ..        ..        .        ..  258 

CHAPTER    XIII. 
^  TRAITOR'S  BARBARITIES,         ".       .      '.        .        »        .  279 


BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 


CHAPTER    I. 

YOUTH  AND  EARLY  MANHOOD. 

A  TRAIT  OR  is  despised  of  all  the  world 
I  have  stated  in  my  preface,  that  it  is 
the  design  of  the  Biographical  Series  of 
which  this  volume  is  a  part,  to  "  furnish  from  the 
pages  of  theworld's  history  a  few  examples  of  true 
manhood,  lofty  purpose,  and  persevering  effort, 
such  as  may  be  safely  held  up  either  for  the  admi- 
ration or  emulation  of  the  youth  of  the  present 
day ;"  and  I  am  sure  it  is  needless  to  add  that  the 
life  of  Benedict  Arnold  offers  no  such  example. 
On  the  contrary,  his  memory  will  be  detested  as 
long  as  time  shall  help  to  keep  it  alive. 

Yet  it  is  not  impossible  that  the  highest  forms 
of  manhood  may  be  studied,  sometimes,  by  the 


8  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

contemplation  of  their  strongest  contrasts;  espe- 
cially, in  cases  where  it  was  just  as  easy  for  men 
to  be  heroes  as  villains,  and  all  attending  influ- 
ences should  have  nerved  them  to  deeds  of  pat- 
riotism and  nobility.  And  I  have  thought  it  may 
be  so  in  the  present  case.  Arnold  had  oppor- 
tunities such  as  few  men  are  offered;  but  he 
threw  both  them  and  himself  away. 

The  treason  of  Arnold  is  known  wherever  the 
English  tongue  is  spoken.  The  details  of  the 
story,  however,  have  been  in  a  great  degree  forgot- 
ten, or  merged  in  that  universal  sentiment  of  de- 
testation of  the  man,  which  seems  to  have  swal- 
lowed all  else  up ;  and  even  those  honorable  ser- 
vices which  he  did  render  his  country  on  certain 
occasions,  are  willingly,  but  quite  wrongfully,  left 
out  of  the  account.  It  is  the  purpose  of  this  nar- 
rative to  do  justice  to  his  merits,  while  sparing 
in  no  manner  his  unparalleled  crimes ;  for  in  no 
other  way  than  by  comparing  one  side  of  his  char- 
acter with  the  other,  can  one  hope  to  make  up  a 
judgment  that  will  be  either  just  or  lasting. 

The  ancestors  of  Benedict  Arnold  settled  orig- 
inally in  Rhode  Island.  One  of  them,  after  whom 


YOUTrf   AND   EARLY  MANHOOD. 

he  was  named,  was  the  president  of  the  colony 
immediately  succeeding  Roger  Williams.  HLs 
father  emigrated  from  Newport  to  Norwich,  iit 
Connecticut,  together  with  another  brother,  Oliver, 
not  long  after  the  year  1730.  They  both  follow- 
ed the  trade  of  coopers,  which  Benedict  very  soon 
after  left  for  a  commercial  life.  It  is  said  that  he 
sailed  to  England,  in  the  prosecution  of  his  new 
business,  and  likewise  carried  on  a  very  thriving 
trade  with  the  West  Indies,  for  which  the  town 
of  Norwich  was  in  those  days  much  noted.  As 
soon  as  he  had  secured  a  sufficient  amount  to 
furnish  him  with  a  reliable  business  capital,  he 
left  his  voyaging  and  foreign  trading,  and  betook 
himself  to  the  occupation  of  a  merchant. 

For  a  long  time  he  enjoyed  uninterrupted  suc- 
cess. His  pv^fits  came  in  steadily,  and  his  pros- 
pects and  position  in  the  world  ought  to  have  been 
good  enough  to  satisfy  any  man  of  reasonable 
desires;  yet  it  appears  that  he  was  regarded  with 
feelings  of  suspicion  by  his  fellow  citizens,  and 
failed  to  secure  anything  like  that  respect  for  him- 
self that  gives  life  one  of  its  highest  values.  In 
time,  therefore,  he  became  insensible  to  the  good 
opinion  of  others;  neglected  his  business;  took  to 


10  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

drinking  and  dissipation;  and,  in  the  natural  order 
of  things,  grew  to  be  poor,  idle,  and  a  burden  in 
the  public  mind. 

During  the  years  of  his  prosperity,  however,  he 
had  married  a  widow  lady  of  Norwich,  Mrs.  Han- 
nah King  by  name;  and  the  fruit  of  this  union 
was  six  children,  —  three  boys  and  three  girls. 
The  oldest  was  a  boy  named  Benedict, ;  but  as  he 
died  in  his  infancy,  the  same  name  was  given  to 
the  next  son,  who  is  the  subject  of  this  narrative. 
It  appears  that  Benedict  had  for  many  genera- 
tions been  a  favorite  name  with  the  Arnolds,  and 
it  was  to  be  finally  illustrated,  in  the  case  of  the 
child  who  last  took  it,  by  a  record  of  infamy  from 
the  very  thought  of  which  the  upright  mind 
shrinks  with  an  instinct  of  dismay. 

Benedict,  the  Traitor,  was  born,  therefore,  on  the 
3d  day  of  January,  1740;  which  made  him  forty 
years  old  at  the  time  of  the  consummation  of  that 
stupendous  villany  with  which  his  name  will  ever 
be  associated.  All  the  other  children,  except 
himself  and  his  sister  Hannah,  died  in  infancy. 
Very  little  is  positively  known  as  to  the  sort  of 
education  Benedict  was  permitted  to  get  from  the 
schools  of  his  native  town,  although  it  is  highly 


YOUTH    AND    EARLY  .MANHOOD.  11 

probable,  from  the  fact  of  his  father's  being  in 
such  affluent  circumstances  during  his  early 
youth,  that  he  certainly  had  the  advantages 
of  all  that  could  be  reached.  Besides  this,  his 
mother  was  a  lady  of  exemplary  piety  and  of  a 
highly  consistent  Christian  character ;  and  sought 
on  every  occasion  to  instil  into  his  nature  those 
lessons  of  virtue  and  purity  which  should  have 
finally  made  the  boy  a  noble  man. 

The  following  is  a  fragment  of  a  letter  written 
by  Arnold's  mother  to  her  son,  in  these  days  — 
while  he  was  away  from  home  in  Canterbury, 
twelve  miles  from  Norwich  :  — 

"NORWICH  APRIL  12  1754. 

"  dear  childe.  I  received  yours  of  1  instant 
and  was  glad  to  hear  that  you  was  well :  pray  my 
clear  let  your  first  consern  be  to  make  your  pease 
with  god  as  itt  is  of  all  conserns  of  ye  greatest 
importance.  Keep  a  stedy  watch  over  your 
thoughts,  words  and  actions,  be  dutifull  to  su- 
periors obliging  to  equalls  and  affibel  to  inferiors. 
********* 

"from  your  afectionate 

"  HANNAH   ARNOLD. 

"  P.  S.  I  have  sent  you  fifty  shillings  youse  itt 
prudently  as  you  are  accountable  to  God  and  your 


12  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

father.  Your  father  and  aunt  joyns  with  rne  in 
love  and  servis  to  Mr  Cogswell  and  ladey  and 
yourself  Your  sister  is  from  home. 

"  To  Mr 

benedict  arnold 
"  Your  father  put  at 

twenty  more  canterbury 

Benedict  is  said  to  have  been  placed  at  one 
time  under  the  instruction  of  a  Dr.  Jewett,  of 
Montville,  —  a  little  country  town  some  half  do/- 
en miles  below  Norwich.  He  was  afterwards 
bound  out  to  serve  an  apprenticeship  with  a 
couple  of  gentlemen  in  Norwich,  named  Lathrop, 
who  were  very  extensively  engaged  in  the  drug 
and  medicine  business.  He  was  still  quite  a  lad 
when  he  went  into  their  store,  and  it  is  likely  that 
he  was  taken  away  from  school  as  early  as  he 
was,  in  consequence  of  the  fast  sinking  character 
of  his  father.  The  Messrs.  Lathrop,  too,  were 
distantly  related  to  his  mother,  and  she  no  doubt 
thought  her  son  would  receive  at  their  hands 
as  good  a  training  as  it  was  possible  for  her 
circumstances  to  allow  him. 

All  accounts  agree  that  Benedict  was  a  perverse 
young  fellow,  from  the  very  beginning.  There  are 
several  stories  in  existence  that  go  to  show  this 


YOUTH  AND  EA&LY  MANHOOD.  13 

fact  beyond  dispute.  His  heart  was  bad,  at  the 
outset.  He  possessed  a  vicious  temper,  which  lie 
would  neither  control  himself,  nor  suffer  any  one 
else  to  control.  He  loved  mischief,  not,  like  some 
boys,  for  the  sake  of  mere  roguery  and  fun,  but 
rather  because  he  had  a  decided  love  for  visiting 
other  persons  with  his  malice.  All  the  teachings 
and  precepts  of  his  mother  seemed  to  have  made 
but  a  slight  impression  upon  him. 

Very  few  boys,  at  his  age,  could  take  much 
delight  in  robbing  birds'  nests,  unless  they  were 
really  bad  at  heart.  But  he  would  go  out  into  the 
orchards  and  fields,  and  tear  them  from  the  trees 
with  an  inward  chuckle  of  maliciousness,  crush- 
ing the  eggs  he  found,  and  pulling  the  helpless 
and  unfledged  young  cruelly  limb  from  limb.  He 
took  a  downright  pleasure  in  making  the  young 
birds  cry  out  with  his  savage  torments,  that  he 
might  see  the  old  ones  flying  around  him  in  dis- 
tress, wailing  for  the  destruction  of  their  innocent 
offspring.  He  would  likewise,  when  he  began 
his  apprenticeship  in  the  drug  store,  strew  broken 
bits  of  glass,  pieces  of  vials  and  bottles,  in  the 
road  near  the  school-house,  in  order  to  mangle  the 
feet  of  the  unsuspecting  boys  who  went  bare- 

2 


14  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

footed  through  the  summer  weather.  The  odd 
vials  that  came  in  the  crockery  crates  were  the 
property  of  the  apprentices,  according  to  the  cus- 
tom of  those  days  ;  and  young  Benedict  used  to 
place  them  not  far  from  the  store  where  the  school 
children  would  be  likely  to  pick  them  up,  not  sup- 
posing that  any  one  would  ever  claim  them  again: 
and  as  soon  as  they  had  started  off  with  their  trea- 
sure, he  would  dart  out  from  his  hiding  place  with 
a  whip  in  his  hand,  shout  after  them  that  they 
were  little  thieves,  and  commence  laying  the  lash 
about  them  without  any  compunctions. 

Mixed  in  with  this  malicious  love  of  mischief, 
was  a  dash  of  boldness,  or  recklessness,  which 
occasionally  drew  forth  the  wonder  and  admira- 
tion of  all  the  boys  of  the  town.  Most  boys,  with 
a  temper  like  his,  are  apt  to  be  arrant  cowards ; 
but  it  cannot  be  said  that  Arnold  was  a  coward  in 
any  sense.  He  delighted  in  doing  what  no  one 
else  would  dare  to  do,  or  even  seriously  think  of. 
For  example:  when  he  carried  the  corn  to  the 
town  gristmill  for  his  employers,  and  while  wait- 
ing for  it  to  be  ground,  he  sometimes  caught  hold 
of  the  great  water-wheel  at  the  mill,  which  was 
exposed  to  view,  and,  going  round  and  round 


YOUTH    AND    EARLY   MANHOOD.  15 

with  it  on  its  circuitous  journey,  displayed  himself 
to  the  astonished  crowd,  now  in  the  water,  and 
now  high  up  on  the  very  top  of  the  wheel.  Such 
a  feat  as  this  gave  him  real  delight.  He  loved 
applause,  no  matter  how  it  was  obtained ;  and 
when  he  failed  to  secure  that,  it  was  all  the  same 
if  he  was  only  able  to  make  himself  notorious, 
and  generally  talked  about.  One  who  carefully 
studies  marked  traits  of  boyish  character  like 
these,  cannot  very  well  help  tracing  out  the  future 
career  of  the  man  who  still  possesses  them.  Ar- 
nold showed  himself  a  reckless,  bad  boy ;  it  is 
easy  to  conclude  that  as  a  man  he  would  prove 
to  be  not  very  much  changed. 

He  soon  grew  tired  of  the  business  to  which  his 
mother  had  apprenticed  him,  and  formed  the  deter- 
mination to  run  away.  About  this  time,  the  Old 
French  War  broke  out,  in  the  year  1755,  which 
is  described  in  the  biography  of  Gen.  Israel  Put- 
nam ;  and  the  next  year,  1756,  Arnold  being  only 
sixteen  years  of  age,  he  was  so  captivated  with 
the  thought  of  being  a  soldier,  that  he  cherished 
the  secret  purpose  of  going  off  to  the  wars  with 
the  others  who  were  at  that  time  drafted  from  all 
parts  of  the  Connecticut  Colony.  He  saw  in  a 


16  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

military  career  something  to  excite  and  inflame 
his  imagination ;  the  irregular  mode  of  life  in  a 
camp  had  many  attractions  for  a  spirit  so  uneasy 
and  impatient  of  restraint  as  his ;  his  young  mind 
found  much  to  desire  for  its  own  enjoyment,  in 
the  stirring  scenes  of  battle,  in  hard  and  trying 
journeys  through  the  wilderness  whither  the  ar- 
mies had  already  gone,  and  beneath  the  glories 
of  an  open  sky ;  and  no  sooner  was  his  impulsive 
purpose  taken,  than  he  was  in  equal  haste  to 
carry  it  into  execution. 

Men  were  flocking  to  the  colonial  head  quarters 
from  all  directions,  to  join  the  army  that  was  then 
forming  against  the  French  in  Canada ;  and  Ar- 
nold managed  to  reach  Hartford  safely  with  the 
rest.  He  let  none  of  his  friends  know  a  syllable 
of  his  intention,  not  even  his  employers,  or  his 
mother  ;  but,  slinging  such  few  clothes  as  he  could 
hastily  collect  across  his  shoulder,  he  went  off  on 
foot  to  the  rendezvous  whence  the  Connecticut 
men  were  to  start  for  Lake  George  and  its  vicin- 
ity. His  poor  mother  was  in  great  distress ;  so 
much  so  that  she  went  to  the  minister  of  the  par- 
ish, Dr.  Lord,  and  prevailed  upon  him  to  interest 
himself,  with  others,  in  her  design  of  getting  the 


YOUTH   AND    EARLY    MANHOOD.  IT 

boy  back  before  he  should  finally  march  away  into 
the  wilderness.  The  minister  exerted  himself  to 
perform  the  office  which  the  boy's  mother  sc 
eagerly  desired,  although  he  cared  little  enough, 
probably,  whether  he  returned  into  the  town  or 
not,  such  a  name  for  mischief  and  malice  had  he 
succeeded  in  establishing ;  the  result  was,  that  he 
very  soon  came  back  to  his  mother  and  his  em- 
ployers, having  been  discharged  from  the  army  on 
the  strength  of  the  representations  of  his  mother's 
friends. 

But  he  was  restless  and  uneasy  still.  Already 
he  pined  again  for  some  such  novel  excitement  as 
he  had  just  had  a  taste  of.  It  was  but  a  little 
while  after  his  return  that  he  took  it  into  his  head 
to  try  it  once  more,  and  this  time  he  ran  away  in 
downright  earnest.  It  was  not  worth  while  to 
send  for  him  again,  and  so  he  was  allowed  to  go. 
He  very  soon  reached  the  region  around  Lake 
George  where  the  fighting  between  the  two  hostile 
armies  was  going  on,  and  found  himself  a  soldier 
in  reality. 

The  times  were  dull,  however,  and  he  grew  as 
impatient  of  restraint  as  before.  His  restless 
spirit  chafed  at  the  thought  of  lying  idle  through 

2* 


15  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

the  season,  when  so  much  bloody  excitement 
might  easily  be  had.  Coming  to  the  conclusion 
that  camp  life,  after  all,  was  by  far  too  monotonous 
and  inactive  for  him,  he  deserted  the  army  of  his 
own  accord,  found  his  way  back  to  Hartford,  and 
thence  returned  to  Norwich  and  his  friends.  His 
mother  was  overjoyed  to  recover  him,  as  may  be 
supposed ;  and  no  doubt  she  thought  that  this 
brief  experience  which  he  had  gone  through  wouM 
be  of  essential  service  to  him.  The  Messrs.  Lath- 
rop  were  willing  to  receive  him  back  into  their 
store,  admiring  his  courage  and  spirit,  even  if  they 
had  little  confidence  in  the  steadiness  of  his  char- 
acter. One  day  not  long  after  his  return,  an  offi- 
cer of  the  British  army  came  into  the  town  to  look 
around  after  deserters,  who  were  quite  easily  to  be 
found  in  some  places  at  that  time.  Arnold's 
friends  heard  that  such  a  person  was  in  the  place, 
and  immediately  took  him  and  hid  him  away  in  a 
cellar  during  the  day,  and  at  night  sent  him  off 
several  miles  into  the  country,  where  he  remained 
until  all  danger  of  detection  was  over. 

The  mother  of  young  Arnold  was  tried  with 
him  in  every  way.  His  conduct  was  so  different 
from  what  she  had  hoped  for  in  the  only  son  that 


YOUTH   AND   EARLY  MANHOOD.  19 

was  left  her,  there  is  little  doubt  that  her  heart 
was  overburdened  with  grief  and  sorrow,  and  her 
hold  on  life  became  less  and  less  strong  in  conse- 
quence. She  died  not  a  great  while  afterwards, 
disappointed  in  her  cherished  hope  of  having  a 
son  to  lean  upon  in  her  declining  years,  of  whom 
she  might  be  as  fond  as  she  was  proud. 

At  twenty-one,  according  to  the  legal  articles 
by  which  he  was  bound  out  to  learn  the  trade  of 
a  druggist,  he  became  his  own  master,  having 
served  out  his  apprenticeship.  About  this  time 
he  left  home  and  went  off  to  New  Haven,  where 
he  determined  to  set  up  in  the  business  for  him- 
self. The  Lathrops  helped  him,  probably  because 
of  their  feeling  of  interest  in  one  of  their  own  re- 
lations, and  because  they  likewise  knew  this  would 
be  the  best  method  of  saving  him  to  society ;  so 
that  he  began  his  career  in  his  new  and  enlarged 
sphere  of  action  under  very  favorable  and  encour- 
aging auspices.  He  had  money,  and  he  had 
friends  ;  and  that  is  more  than  many  a  young  man 
could  say  in  those  times,  who  afterwards  made  a 
far  better  citizen  than  did  Benedict  Arnold. 

In  the  garret  of  the  house  he  occupied  while  in 
New  Haven,  the  sign  was  recently  found  that  hung 


20  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

over  the  door  of  his  store.  It  is  black,  with  white 
letters,  and  painted  alike  on  both  sides.  The  let- 
tering is  as  follows :  — 

B.  ARNOLD,  DRUGGIST. 

Bookseller,  frc., 

FROM  LONDON. 

Sibi  Totique. 

The  Latin  motto  means  —  for  himself  and  for 
the  whole. 

As  his  business  increased,  in  consequence  of  tho 
close  attention  he  gave  to  it,  he  extended  his  oper- 
ations to  other  branches  of  trade.  He  went  into 
the  sale  of  merchandise  of  all  kinds.  At  length 
he  engaged  in  the  West  India  trade,  and  began  to 
ship  horses  and  cattle,  mules  and  provisions,  to  the 
islands  that  compose  the  group  known  by  that 
name,  which  was  a  great  business  in  New  Haven 
at  that  day,  and  continued  to  be  for  some  time 
afterwards.  This  same  business,  too,  his  father  had 
followed  in  Norwich  before  him,  and  became  the 
possessor  of  his  wealth  in  consequence.  Like  his 
father,  too,  he  commanded  his  own  vessels,  and 
made  voyages  to  the  West  Indies  on  his  own 
account.  He  was  considered  a  very  hard  captain, 
and  did  not  seem  to  multiply  his  friends  anywhere 


YOUTH   AND   EARLY   MANHOOD.  21 

very  fast.  It  is  recorded  that  he  fought  a  duel 
with  a  Frenchman,  while  absent  on  one  of 
these  trading  voyages,  and  was  likewise  en- 
gaged in  difficulties  of  all  sorts  with  those 
around  him.  Hardly  less  than  this  was  to  be 
expected  from  his  overbearing,  hot,  and  impulsive 
temper. 

Perhaps  it  was  in  consequence  of  these  same 
traits  that  his  ventures  in  the  West  Indies  finally 
turned  out  unsuccessful.  His  speculations  all 
proved  unfortunate,  and  he  ended  his  career  in  that 
quarter  with  bankruptcy  and  the  utter  loss  of  his 
reputation.  There  were  plenty  of  people  who  be- 
lieved  him  dishonest  and  knavish.  He  at  once 
returned  to  his  old  business  in  New  Haven,  at 
which  he  worked  as  hard  as  ever.  He  was  a  man 
of  great  energy  when  he  set  before  himself  some 
particular  object  for  accomplishment,  and  pretty 
sure  to  recover,  under  favorable  circumstances, 
from  his  misfortunes. 

In  New  Haven  he  soon  got  into  trouble  again. 
He  was  still  carrying  on  his  business  as  usual,  and 
I  copy  an  advertisement  of  his  from  the  "  Connec- 
ticut Gazette,"  a  paper  which  was  started  in  New 
Haven  during  the  year  1755.  It  reads  thus  ; — - 


22  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

"  BENEDICT  ARNOLD.  —  Wants  to  bny  a  num- 
ber of  large  genteel  fat  Horses,  Pork,  Oats,  and 
Hay.  And  has  to  sell  choice  Cotton  and  Salt,  by 
quantity  or  retail ;  and  other  goods  as  usual. 

New  Haven,  January  24th,  1766." 

The  trouble  alluded  to  was  the  whipping  of  a 
sailor  who  had  served  with  him  on  one  of  his  ves- 
sels to  the  West  Indies,  and  who  now  came  for- 
ward and  openly  accused  Arnold  of  having  smug- 
gled goods  into  the  port,  and  thereby  defrauded 
the  custom-house.  Arnold  gave  him  a  severe 
thrashing,  and  forced  him  to  make  a  solemn  prom- 
ise to  leave  the  town  and  never  come  into  it  again. 
The  sailor,  however,  did  not  go  as  he  engaged, 
and  Arnold  took  him  in  hand  for  failing  to  keep 
his  word.  As  Arnold  tells  the  whole  story  him- 
self in  a  letter  which  he  wrote  to  the  publisher  of 
the  Connecticut  Gazette,  it  will  be  more  interest- 
ing to  give  it  in  his  own  words,  as  follows  :  — 

"  MR.  PRINTER:  Sir —  As  I  was  a  party  con- 
cerned in  whipping  the  Informer,  the  other  day, 
and  unluckily  out  of  town  when  the  Court  set, 
and  finding  the  affair  misrepresented  much  to  my 
disadvantage  and  many  animadversions  thereon, 


YOUTH  AND   EARLY  MANHOOD.  23 

especially  in  one  of  your  last  by  a  very  fair,  can- 
did gentleman  indeed,  as  he  pretends  ;  after  he 
had  insinuated  all  that  malice  could  do,  adds,  that 
he  will  say  nothing  to  prejudice  the  minds  of  the 
people.  —  He  is  clearly  seen  through  the  Grass, 
but  the  weather  is  too  cold  for  him  to  bite.  —  To 
satisfy  the  public,  and  in  justice  to  myself  and 
those  concerned,  I  beg  you'd  insert  in  your  next, 
the  following  detail  of  the  affair. 

"  The  Informer  having  been  a  voyage  with  me, 
in  which  he  was  used  with  the  greatest  humanity, 
on  our  return  was  paid  his  wages  to  his  full  satis- 
faction ;  and  informed  me  of  his  intention  to  leave 
the  town  that  day,  wished  me  well,  and  departed 
the  town,  as  I  imagined.  —  But  he  two  days  after 
endeavored  to  make  information  to  a  Custom 
House  Officer  ;  but  it  being  holy  time  was  desired 
to  call  on  Monday,  early  on  which  day  I  heard  of 
his  intention,  and  gave  him  a  little  chastisement; 
on  which  he  left  the  town ;  and  on  Wednesday 
returned  to  Mr.  Beecher's,  where  I  saw  the  fellow, 
who  agreed  to  and  signed  the  following  acknowl- 
edgment and  Oath. 

"  I,  Peter  Boole,  not  having  the  fear  of  God  be- 
fore my  Eyes,  but  being  instigated  by  the  Devil, 
did  on  the  24th  instant,  make  information,  or 
endeavor  to  do  the  same,  to  one  of  the  Custom 
House  Officers  for  the  Port  of  New  Haven, 
against  Benedict  Arnold,  for  importing  contraband 


24  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

goods,  do  hereby  acknowledge  1  justly  deserve 
a  Halter  for  my  malicious  and  cruel  intentions. 
"  I  do  now  solemnly  swear  I  will  never  hereafter 
make  information,  directly  or  indirectly,  or  cause 
the  same  to  be  done  against  any  person  or  per- 
sons, whatever,  for  importing  Contraband  or  any 
other  goods  into  this  Colony,  or  any  Port  of  Amer- 
ica ;  and  that  I  will  immediately  leave  Ne\v 
Haven  and  never  enter  the  same  again.  So  help 
me  God. 

NEW  HAVEN,  29th  Janut  jr,  1766. 

"  This  was  done  precisely  at  7  o'clock,  on  which 
I  engaged  not  to  inform  the  sailors  of  his  being  in 
town,  provided  he  would  leave  it  immediately  ac- 
cording to  our  agreement  Near  four  hours  after 
I  heard  a  noise  in  the  street  and  a  person  informed 
me  the  sailors  were  at  Mr.  Beecher's.  On  enquiry, 
I  found  the  fellow  had  not  left  the  town.  I  then 
made  one  of  the  party  and  took  him  to  the 
Whipping  Post,  where  he  received  near  forty 
lashes  with  a  small  cord,  and  was  conducted  out 
of  town;  since  which  on  his  return,  the  affair 
was  submitted  to  Col.  David  Wooster  and  Mr. 
Enos  Allen,  (Gentlemen  of  reputed  good  judg- 
ment and  understanding,)  who  were  of  opinion 
that  the  fellow  was  not  whipped  too  much,  and 
gave  him  50s.  damages  only. 

"  Query.  -  -  Is  it  good  policy ;  ot  would  so  great 


YOUTH  AND   EARLY   MANHOOD.  25 

a  number  of  people,  in  any  trading  town  on  the 
Continent,  (New  Haven  excepted,)  vindicate,  pro- 
tect and  caress  an  informer  —  a  character  particu- 
larly at  this  alarming  time  so  justly  odious  to  the 
Public?  Every  such  information  tends  to  sup- 
press our  trade,  so  advantageous  to  the  Colony, 
and  to  almost  every  individual  both  here  and  in 
Great  Britain,  and  which  is  nearly  ruined  by  the 
late  detestable  stamp  and  other  oppressive  acts  — 
acts  which  we  have  so  severely  felt,  and  so  loudly 
complained  of,  and  so  earnestly  remonstrated 
against,  that  one  would  imagine  every  sensible 
man  would  strive  to  encourage  trade  and  discoun- 
tenance such  useless,  such  infamous  Informers. 
I  am  Sir,  your  humble  servant, 

BENEDICT  ARNOLD." 

The  above  account  lets  one  pretty  thoroughly 
into  the  real  nature  of  the  man.  Unquestionably 
he  had  been  guilty  of  certain  illegal  practices,  of 
which  the  sailor  knew,  and  which  he  did  not  him- 
self deny.  But  he  was  irritated  at  the  thought  of 
exposure,  and  resolved  to  silence  his  informer  by 
driving  him  out  of  town ;  and  after  administering 
to  him  the  second  whipping,  he  appears  in  a  card 
in  the  newspapers,  and  tries  to  divert  public  atten- 
tion from  the  meanness  of  the  act  by  showing  the 
3 


26  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

citizens  what  a  lasting  injury  informers  like  this 
sailor  could  inflict  upon  the  interests  of  trade. 
The  whole  affair  illustrates  Arnold's  impetuous 
temper,  and  his  determination  to  brook  control 
at  the  hands  of  no  one. 

A  story  is  also  told  of  him,  at  about  this  time, 
that  one  day  he  was  engaged  with  his  men  in 
driving  some  cattle  on  board  a  vessel,  when  an 
ox  of  an  obstinate  temper  refused  to  go.  The 
animal  finally  turned  on  his  tormentors  with  fury, 
and  fled  beyond  their  reach.  Arnold  instantly 
mounted  a  horse  in  pursuit,  overtook  the  runa- 
way, seized  hold  of  him  by  the  nostrils,  —  which 
is  a  very  tender  place,  and  thus  held  him  fast  un- 
til he  was  subdued. 

Arnold  had  three  sons  while  he  lived  in  New 
Haven,  Benedict,  Richard,  and  Henry.  The  for- 
mer died  while  quite  a  young  man,  in  the  West  In- 
dies. It  is  believed  that  he  came  to  an  untimely 
and  violent  death,  in  consequence  of  his  uncon- 
trollable temper.  In  this  respect  he  was  very 
much  like  his  father.  Mrs.  Arnold,  who  was  ori- 
ginally a  New  Haven  lady,  died  about  the  time 
the  Revolutionary  War  commenced.  Hannah, 
the  only  sister  of  Arnold,  removed  from  Norwich 


YOUTH   AND   EARLY  MANHOOD.  27 

to  live  with  her  brother,  whom  she  loved  with  all 
a  sister's  devotion.  And  not  until  the  whole  world 
was  assured  of  his  deep  and  irreparable  disgrace, 
did  she  give  him  up.  She  died  at  last  somewhere 
in  Canada. 


CHAPTER    II. 

TAKING    OF   TICONDEROGA. 

WHEN  the  War  broke  out,  Arnold  was 
just  thirty-five  years  old.    His  residence 
was  in  Water   street,  near  the   ship- 
yard ;  and  within  a  few  years  his  house  was  still 
standing.     At  this  time  he  was  Captain  of  a  mili- 

—  -         -        *  """ 

tary  company  called  the  Governor' .s  Guards.  The 
news  of  the  skirmish  at  Lexington  reached  New 
Haven  about  noon.  Capt.  Arnold  at  once  called 
out  his  company,  and  proposed  to  them,  while 
drawn  up  on  the  public  green,  to  go  on  to  Boston 
with  him  and  take  part  in  the  fighting  there. 
More  than  forty  out  of  the  entire  number,  which 
was  fifty-eight,  consented  to  go.  But  they  had 
no  ammunition.  That  was  a  serious  obstacle 
indeed.  There  was  a  quantity  stored  in  the 
town  powder-house,  of  which  Arnold  of  course 
knew.  The  selectmen  of  the  town  were  in  ses- 


TAKING   OP   TICONDEROGA.  29 

sion  the  next  day,  to  consider  what  was  best  to 
be  done  in  view  of  the  outbreak  at  Lexington. 
While  they  were  in  session.  Arnold,  who  had  al- 
ready drawn  up  the  rnen  who  had  volunteered  to 
follow  him  to  Lexington,  put  himself  at  their  head 
and  marched  forthwith  to  the  house  in  which  they 
were  assembled. 

He  formed  the  company  in  front  of  the  house, 
and  proceeded  at  once  to  summary  measures.  He 
sent  in  word  to  the  selectmen,  that  unless  the  key 
of  the  powder-house  was  delivered  up  within  five 
minutes,  he  would  give  orders  to  his  men  to  break 
open  the  building  and  help  themselves  to  the  con- 
tents. The  threat  produced  exactly  the  effect  he 
desired.  The  key  was  surrendered,  and  a  suffi- 
cient supply  of  powder  was  dealt  out. 

Arnold  set  off  for  Cambridge  with  his  company 
without  delay.  On  the  second  night  of  their 
march,  they  reached  the  town  of  Wethersfield, 
where  the  people  received  them  with  every  dem- 
onstration of  delight,  and  offered  them  all  possible 
attention.  The  legislature  of  Connecticut  was  in 
session  at  that  time  in  Hartford,  and  certain  per- 
sons were  talking  up  a  bold  project  among  them- 
selves, for  which  they  hoped  to  obtahl  the  favor  of 


30  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

that  body,  to  march  a  force  up  through  the  coun- 
try to  Fort  Ticqnderoga,  and  suddenly  wrest  that 
fortress  from  the  hands  of  the  British.  The  mo- 
ment Arnold  caught  the  whispered  hint,  he  was 
impatient  to  share  the  glory  which  such  an  expe- 
dition, if  successful,  would  be  certain  to  bring. 
So  that  as  soon  as  he  arrived  at  Cambridge  with 
his  handsomely  uniformed  company,  he  laid  the 
plan  before  the  Massachusetts  Committee  of 
Safety,  as  if  it  were  altogether  original  with  him- 
self;  and  went  on  to  show  them  how  easy  it  would 
be  to  carry  it  out.  He  set  forth  his  design  with 
all  the  enthusiasm  of  his  easily  moved  nature. 
He  showed  to  the  Committee  the  splendor  of  such 
an  achievement,  and  described  in  glowing  terms 
the  electric  effect  it  would  produce  on  the  dejected 
heart  of  the  country.  The  expedition  was  painted 
in  the  warmest  colors,  laid  on  with  a  lavish  hand. 
And  at  the  close  of  his  remarks,  he  declared  that 
he  would  freely  undertake  to  do  all  this  himself, 
if  they  would  only  furnish  him  with  the  necessary 
means.  They  accepted  his  proposal  wjth  eager- 
ness; and  gave  him  a  commission  with  the  title 
oLjColoiiel*  with  authority  to  enlist  not  to, exceed 
four  hundred  soldiers  in  the  western  part  of  Mas- 


TAKING    OF   TICONDEROGA.  31 

sachusetts,  and  wherever  else  along  the  line  he 
might  be  able. 

Accordingly,  on  the  3d  day  of  May,  1775,  Bene- 
dict Arnold  assumed  his  new  command.  Mean- 
time, the  Connecticut  men  already  spoken  of  had 
been  active  in  carrying  forward  their  plans,  and 
had  already  started  off  up  the  valley  of  the  Con- 
necticut on  the  projected  expedition.  They  had 


got  the  Green  Mountain  Boys,  with  the  famous 
Kthan  Allen  at  their  head,  to  join  them.  The 
Connecticut  legislature  voted  them  a  thousand 
dollars  to  begin  with,  although  its  aid  was  still 
kept  a  secret  from  the  public  at  large,  for  prudent 
reasons.  When  this  party  left  for  Castleton,  in 
Vermont,  they  numbered  two  hundred  and  sev- 
enty men.  Allen  was  placed  at  their  headv  by  a 
vote  of  a  council  *of  war.  The  whole  body  was 
then  divided  up  into  three  commands,  each"  o lie" 
of  which  was  to  take  a  different  route,  and  finally 
arrive  before  Ticonderoga  at  the  same  time  with 
the  others. 

The  Massachusetts  Committee  of  Safety  fur- 
nished Arnold  with  an  outfit  of  a  hundred  pounds 
in  money,  two  hundred  pounds'  weight  each  of 
powder  and  lead  balls,  a  thousand  flints,  and  ten 


32  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

horses.  They  likewise  gave  him  authority  to 
draw  on  them  for  a  sufficient  amount  to  furnish 
stores  and  supplies,  for  his  troops  by  the  way. 

He  reached  Stockbridge,  in  Massachusetts,  and 
there  learned  to  his  dismay  that  the  Connecticut 
party  was  before  him.  Col.  Easton  ha^collected 
a  force  of  some  forty  men  in  Berkshire,  and 
inarched  on  to  Bennington,  and  there  joined 
Ethan  Allen.  Arnold  was  in  a  fury  of  impatience 
at  receiving  this  most  unexpected  intelligence. 
He  now  saw  his  coveted  laurels  plucked  from  his 
brow,  and  his  honors  suddenly  withered  like  au- 
1  umn  leaves  by  a  frost.  He  did  not  pause  long 
1o  consider,  and  certainly  he  would  have  been  the 
last.  Jiving  man  to  turn  back  because  others  were 
before.  Accordingly,  he  left  his  men  to  follow 
after  at  their  own  convenient  pace,  and  himself 
pushed  on  after  the  expedition  at  the  top  of  his 
speed. 

At  Castleton  he  came  up  with  the  whole  of 
them.  There  he  proceeded  to  make  the  first 
exhibition  of  his  real  character.  Taking  the  piece 
of  parchment  from  his  pocket  upon  which  his 
commission  was  written,  he  exhibited  it  to  the 
officers  of  the  other  expedition  with  an  air  of 


TAKING    OP   TICONDEIIOGA.  33 

\  •  . 

haughty  triumph,  and  claimed  the  right  to  exer- 
cise supreme  authority  over  the  entire  body  him- 
self, by  virtue  of  his  title. 

This  was  a  sorry  occurrence,  to  begin  with. 
The  Green  Mountain  Boys  never  would  have 
served  in  any  undertaking  of  the  kind,  unless  they 
could  have  been  allowed  to  do  so  under  their 
favorite  commander,  Ethan  Allen.  The  men  col- 
lected from  Connecticut,  as  well  as  those  under 
Col.  Easton,  were  secretly  in  the  pay  of  the  Con- 
necticut Assembly,  and  of  course  refused  to  obey 
any  directions  but  such  as  were  received,  first 
and  last,  from  the  Legislature  itself.  And  for  a 
time  it  was  feared  that  the  enterprise  might  fall 
through  altogether,  just  from  an  unhappy  division 
of  counsels  and  an  irritated  state  of  feeling. 

But  Arnold  saw  at  a  glance  how  the  matter 
stood,  and  thought  best  to  control  his  ardor.  Had 
he  persisted  in  his  claims,  it  is  very  certain  he 
could  not  have  distinguished  himself  as  he  did. 
He  made  up  his  mind,  therefore,  to  join  the  expe- 
dition as  a  volunteer,  though  he  insisted  still  on 
retaining  his  rank  and  title  of  Colonel.  As  such, 
his  services  were  accepted,  and  they  all  went  off 
towards  the  lake  in  the  three  squads  just  men- 
tioned, 


34  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

The  division  under  Allen  arrived  at  Shoreham, 
a  little  village  opposite  Ticonderoga,  in  the  night 
time.  This  was  on  the  tenth  day  of  May.  As 
it  happened,  the  division  which  was  to  have 
captured  certain  boats  at  Skenesboro',  on  the 
lake,  had  not  yet  sent  down  their  boats  to  Shore, 
ham,  as  expected,  and  how  to  proceed  was  a  truly 
puzzling  problem.  There  were  only  eighty-three 
men  with  Allen,  in  all;  and  to  assail  an  armed 
fortress  like  Ticonderoga  with  a  puny  force  like 
this,  seemed  hardly  less  than  madness.  Yet  it 
was  more  dangerous  still  to  remain  there  idle. 
Nothing  could  come  of  waiting  but  increased 
hazard. 

Allen  accordingly  procured  the  services  of  a 
young  lad  in  the  neighborhood,  named  Nathan 
Beman  ;  his  father  was  an  honest  and  patriotic 
farmer,  and  was  glad  to  do  the  party  a  favor. 
This  little  boy  had  been  in  the  habit  of  crossing 
the  lake  and  playing  about  the  fortress  with  the 
other  lads  who  belonged  within  its  walls,  and  by 
this  means  had  grown  familiar  with  every  secret 
passage  and  winding  way  there  was  about  the 
place.  Allen  wanted  him  to  go  along  as  a  guide. 

They  crossed  the  lake  in  such  boats  as  were  at 


TAKING   OF  TICONDEROGA.  35 

hand,  dipping  their  oars  silently  in  the  water  as 
they  went.  It  was  necessary  to  save  every  mo- 
ment now,  for  the  gray  of  early  morning  was  just 
beginning  to  show  itself  in  the  east.  In  good 
time,  however,  they  reached  the  opposite  shore, 
where  they  were  drawn  up  noiselessly  in  three 
ranks.  Allen  now  walked  rapidly  up  and  down 
the  line,  talking  to  them  with  a  great  deal  of  en- 
ergy, but  in  low  and  earnest  whispers.  He  then 
called  Arnold  to  his  side,  and  started  off  at  the 
head  of  his  followers  at  a  quick  pace  for  the  for- 
tress before  him.  It  was  a  bold  step,  and  few 
men  would  have  dared  to  take  it.  But  Ethan 
Allen  was  a  bold  man,  and  one  just  suited  to  an 
emergency  of  such  a  character. 

With  the  lad  to  show  them  the  way,  they 
soon  came  to  the  sally-port,  through  which  they 
entered.  A  sentinel,  who  was  thunderstruck  by 
what  he  saw,  hastily  snapped  his  fusee  at  Allen, 
but  fortunately  it  missed  fire,  and  he  ran  off 
through  a  covered  way  within  the  fort.  Rushing 
on  close  behind  him,  the  assailants  pushed  their 
way  to  the  parade  within  the  barracks,  where  they 
at  once  found  themselves  masters.  The  garrison 
Were  of  course  aroused  from  their  sleep  by  the 


36  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

loud  shoutings  and  hallooings  of  the  victorious 
party,  and  sprang  from  their  beds  in  a  state  of 
great  alarm.  But  as  fast  as  they  made  their 
appearance  at  the  doors  of  the  barracks,  they 
were  seized  by  the  enthusiastic  party  of  besiegers 
and  made  prisoners. 

Allen  told  the  boy  Beman  to  show  him  the 
way  to  the  door  of  the  commander's  room,  Col. 
Delaplace.  In  an  instant  he  sprang  up  the  steps 
and  thundered  away  upon  the  door  with  the  hilt 
of  his  heavy  sword.  He  shouted  out  to  him  that 
he  must  get  up  and  come  to  the  door  at  once,  or 
the  whole  garrison  would  be  sacrificed.  Col. 
Delaplace  chanced  to  have  been  awakened  by 
the  noise  of  the  Americans  when  they  first  sent 
up  their  shouts  in  the  parade;  and  he  and  his 
young  wife  hurried  out  of  bed  and  were  all  ready 
to  open  the  door  the  moment  Allen  made  his 
startling  demand. 

Both  commanders  were  old  friends.  As  soon 
as  Delaplace,  therefore,  could  manage  to  see  by 
the  aid  of  an  unsteady  light  who  it  was  that  had 
BO  boldly  disturbed  his  slumbers,  he  rather  pre- 
sumed upon  his  former  acquaintance,  and  asked 
Allen  in  a  tone  of  authority  why  he  was  there  at 


TAKING    OF   TICONDEROGA.  37 

such  a  time  of  night,  and  what  he  wanted. 
Allen  replied,  glancing  significantly  at  the  men 
he  commanded,  —  "  I  order  you  to  surrender  this 
fort  instantly ! "  "  By  what  authority  do  you 
demand  it  ?  "  returned  Delaplace.  "  In  the  name 
of  the  Great  Jehovah  and  the  Continental  Con- 
gress ! "  answered  Allen,  in  tones  that  reverbera- 
ted through  the  place.  Delaplace  was  on  the 
point  of  saying  something  further;  but  Allen 
impetuously  raised  his  sword  over  his  head,  and 
ordered  him,  in  a  voice  whose  temper  he  dared 
not  lightly  regard,  to  keep  silence  and  surrender 
the  fortress  at  once.  Delaplace  gave  directions 
to  the  entire  garrison,  which  consisted  of  only 
forty-eight  men,  to  parade  without  their  arms, 
and  gave  up  everything  into  the  hands  of  his 
courageous  conqueror. 

The  demand  of  Allen  seemed  quite  preposter- 
ous, since  the  "  Continental  Congress  "  by  whose 
authority  he  claimed  to  speak  had  never  met  as 
yet,  and  did  not  meet  until  ten  o'clock  on  that 
very  same  day.  But  the  phrase  sounded  grandly 
enough  for  him,  and  no  doubt  assisted  in  striking 
terror  to  the  heart  of  the  surprised  commander  of 
the  fortress.  The  spoils  which  thus  fell  into  the 
4 


38  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

hands  of  the  Americans,  consisted  of  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  pieces  of  iron  cannon,  lifty 
swivels,  two  ten-inch  mortars,  one  howit/er,  one 
cohorn,  ten  tons  of  musket  balls,  three  cart-loads 
of  flints,  thirty  new  carriages,  a  considerable 
quantity  of  shells,  a  warehouse  filled  with  mate- 
rials for  boat  building,  one  hundred  stand  of 
small  arms,  ten  casks  of  powder  not  worth  a 
great  deal,  two  brass  cannons,  eighteen  barrels  of 
pork,  thirty  barrels  of  flour,  together  with  a  quan- 
tity of  beans  and  peas.  The  garrison  were  sent, 
with  the  women  and  children,  as  prisoners  of 
war  to  Hartford,  in  Connecticut. 

But  the  fortress  of  Ticonderoga  was  not  sur- 
rendered many  hours,  before  the  unquiet  spirit 
of  Arnold  began  to  hatch  further  mischief.  ,His 
pride  was  for  the  moment  soothed  by  Allen's 
asking  him  to  enter  the  fort  side  by  side  with 
himself;  but  as  soon  as  the  victory  was  secured, 
he  thought  it  was  a  barren  triumph  for  him 
indeed.  He  held  no  authority,  and  was  regarded 
by  none  of  the  men  as  their  commander.  To 
such  a  situation  he  did  not  intend  to  submit, 
especially  when  he  thought  of  the  parchment 
commission  in  his  pocket,  and  the  powers  which 


TAKING   OF   TICONDEROGA.  39 

had  been  entrusted  to  him  by  the  Massachusetts 
Committee  of  Safety.  It  is  needless  also  to  say, 
that,  as  human  nature  is  generally  made  up, 
there  are  few  men  who  could  have  brought  them- 
selves tamely  to  acquiesce  in  what  Arnold 
thought,  in  his  own  case,  was  a  sort  of  con- 
spiracy against  him.  And  his  native  perverse- 
ness  of  temper  came  in  to  aggravate  the  wound 
which  his  feelings  received,  and  made  it  much 
more  difficult  for  him  to  be  reconciled. 

He  therefore  set  up  his  authority  within  the 
fortress  as  the  commander,  and  began  to  issue 
his  orders  to  the  men.  But  his  chagrin  and  rage 
were  excessive,  to  find  that  none  of  them  were 
obeyed,  or,  in  fact,  paid  any  attention  to.  The 
Connecticut  Committee  held  a  council  and  went 
through  a  formal  election ;  choosing  Ethan  Allen 
their  commander,  and  delegating  to  him  supreme 
authority  over  the  fortress  and  its  dependencies. 
They  also  requested  Allen  to  remain  where  he 
was  until  they  could  hear  again  from  the  Con- 
necticut Legislature,  or  perhaps  from  the  "  Con- 
tinental Congress"  in  whose  name  Allen  had 
demanded  the  surrender.  'The  Committee  de- 
clared that  this  undertaking  was  one  purely  their 


40  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

own;  they  had  first  conceived  the  plan,  and 
afterwards  first  set  it  on  foot.  They  added  that 
the  men  who  were  raised  in  Massachusetts  were 
in  the  pay  of  the  Connecticut  Legislature,  as 
well  as  themselves ;  and  that  Arnold,  by  joining 
them  as  he  did  merely  as  a  volunteer,  conceded 
that  his  parchment  commission  gave  him  no 
authority  as  an  officer  over  any  part  of  the  expe- 
dition. 

The  result  of  the  misunderstanding  was,  Ar- 
nold sent  a  narrative  of  his  wrongs  to  the  Mas- 
sachusetts Legislature,  under  whose  patronage 
alone  he  claimed  to  act;  and  the  Committee 
from  Connecticut  sent  their  statement  directly 
after  his  to  the  same  body.  The  Massachusetts 
Legislature  thought  the  matter  over,  and  finally 
concluded  that,  as  long  as  the  other  party  had 
entered  upon  the  undertaking  first,  they  would 
relinquish  all  claims,  and  so  remove  every  obsta- 
cle to  the  harmony  which  was  certainly  so  much 
to  be  desired.  They  therefore  sent  a  message  to 
Arnold,  directing  him  not  to  attempt  to  assume 
any  authority  there  on  the  strength  of  their  sup- 
port, but  to  aid  in  the  enterprises  in  that  locality 
to  the  best  of  his  ability.  He  yielded  in  silence 


TAKING   OP   TICONDEROGA.  41 

once  more,  and  became  no  more  a  commander 
than  any  of  the  rest  of  the  soldiers  about  him. 

But  in  a  few  days  he  saw  his  opportunity 
come  again.  About  fifty  recruits,  whom  his  cap- 
tains had  drummed  up  in  Western  Massachu- 
setts, reached  Ticonderoga,  and  placed  them- 
selves under  him  according  to  the  conditions  of 
their  enlistment.  These  men  were  in  the  pay  of 
Massachusetts,  as  the  others  were  in  the  pay  of 
Connecticut.  They  came  on  to  Ticonderoga  by 
way  of  Skenesboro',  bringing  with  them  the  ves- 
sel that  had  been  captured  from  Major  Skene,  of 
that  village.  Arnold  did  not  wait  a  moment  to 
put  himself  on  board  this  little  vessel  with  the 
men  who  were  now  properly  under  him,  and 
sailed  at  once  down  the  lake  to  St.  John's,  where 
was  a  British  sloop-of-war,  which  he  captured 
with  a  mere  handful  of  his  own  men,  and  also 
surprised  the  garrison  and  captured  the  fort.  He 
burned  several  bateaux,  and,  taking  four  others, 
loaded  them  with  provisions  from  the  fort,  and 
proceeded  up  the  lake  again  with  his  trophies  to 
Ticonderoga. 

Allen  started  off  on  the  same  expedition  ;  but 
Arnold  was  anxious  to  distinguish  himself,  and 
4* 


42  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

hurried  matters  forward  with  the  greatest  speed ; 
so  that  when  he  was  on  his  return  in  triumph  up 
the  lake,  that  triumph  became  doubly  sweet  to 
him  from  fortunately  meeting  Allen  and  his  hun- 
dred and  fifty  men  coming  slowly  along  on  the 
very  same  errand  of  war.  Lake  Champlain, 
therefore,  with  its  forts  and  strongholds,  came  all 
at  once  into  the  control  of  the  Americans.  The 
whole  work  was  accomplished  in  little  more  than 
a  week.  The  capture  of  two  renowned  strong- 
holds like  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point,  was 
an  event  worthy  of  special  commemoration  all 
over  the  country ;  and  that  it  soon  received  at 
the  hands  of  an  astonished  and  admiring  people. 
Just  then  came  a  story  that  the  British  and 
loyal  Canadians  were  forming  in  the  vicinity  of 
St.  John's,  with  the  intention  of  coming  up  the 
lake  in  their  boats  and  making  an  attempt  to 
retake  the  lost  forts.  This  news  was  almost 
exactly  what  Arnold  was  waiting  for,  as  he  thus 
had  an  excuse  for  separating  himself  and  his 
little  force  from  Allen,  and  setting  up  the  busi- 
ness of  war  rather  more  on  his  own  account. 
He  therefore  hastened  to  improve  the  opportu- 
nity by  taking  personal  command  of  the  two  ves- 


TAKING  OP  TICONDEROGA.  43 

sels,  —  the  schooner  captured  at  Skenesboro',  and 
the  sloop-of-war  captured  at  St.  John's,  —  and, 
joining  with  them  the  several  bateaux  that  had 
likewise  been  taken,  he  styled  himself  the  naval 
commander  of  the  lake,  and  put  out  upon  the 
water.  His  previous  experience  on  board  his 
own  vessels  between  New  Haven  and  the  West 
Indies  gave  him  considerable  advantage  in  this 
capacity,  and  he  showed  himself  familiar  enough 
with  the  manoeuvring  and  working  of  small 
water  craft  to  really  deserve  the  title  and  place 
which  he  had  so  eagerly  assumed. 

Once  out  by  himself  upon  the  water,  he  sailed 
for  Crown  Point  with  the  determination  to  make 
a  stand  there  and  receive  the  enemy  from  above. 
He  had  at  this  time  some  hundred  and  fifty  men 
under  him.  Arriving  before  this  other  fortress, 
he  proceeded  to  arm  his  little  fleet  with  the  guns 
which  he  took  from  the  same,  placing  on  board 
the  schooner  four  carriage  guns  and  eight  swiv- 
els, and  on  board  the  sloop  six  carriage  guns  and 
twelve  swivels;  and  he  then  appointed  a  com- 
mander to  each  vessel,  with  the  usual  title  of 
captain. 

Thus  he  busied  himself  for  some  time  in  pre- 


44  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

parations  for  the  enemy's  coming.  The  can- 
non, mortars,  and  stores,  which  were  captured 
from  the  British,  he  got  ready  to  send  off  to 
Cambridge  to  the  army,  where  such  things  were 
greatly  in  demand.  At  Albany,  large  quantities 
of  flour  and  pork  were  received,  and  sent  forward 
according  to  his  directions.  This  was  one  of  the 
terms  on  which,  in  fact,  he  procured  his  commis- 
sion from  the  Massachusetts  Committee. 

But  even  had  an  opportunity  offered  for  action 
on  his  part,  he  would  have  been  deprived  of  the 
privilege  of  distinguishing  himself  in  conse- 
quence of  the  representations  that  were  now 
freely  sent  on  to  the  Connecticut  and  Massachu- 
setts Legislatures.  The  former  body,  in  order  to 
heal  all  divisions,  appointed  Col.  Hinman  to  the 
command  of  their  troops  around  the  fortresses, 
while  the  latter,  not  altogether  satisfied  with  the 
way  in  which  Arnold  was  represented  to  have 
employed  his  authority,  despatched  a  committee 
to  Lake  Champlain  to  inquire  into  the  troubles 
that  kad  arisen  there,  and  to  report  exactly  how 
matters  stood.  Their  instructions  also  were  to 
investigate  Arnold's  "spirit,  capacity,  and  con- 
duct," and,  if  thought  necessary,  to  send  him 


TAKING   OP   TICONDEROGA.  45 

back  to  Cambridge  to  give  an  account  of  his 
doings  at  head-quarters.  Now  for  a  man  already 
invested  with  a  colonel's  commission,  as  Arnold 
was,  to  be  weighed  and  measured  by  men  whom 
he  did  not,  and  could  not  recognize  as  his  supe- 
riors, holding  no  rank  whatever  of  their  own,  and 
by  the  very  nature  of  their  errand  casting  suspi- 
cion on  himself  and  his  own  character,  it  is  a 
rather  hard  thing,  it  will  be  confessed  on  all 
sides.  It  is  very  certain,  too,  that  the  letters 
which  had  been  forwarded  by  those  whom  he 
had  alienated  by  his  arrogant  manner,  had  taken 
pains  to  set  forth  the  worst  points  of  his  conduct, 
and  in  the  worst  possible  light.  In  their  eager- 
ness to  express  their  entire  dislike  of  what  they 
thought  a  high-handed  assumption  on  his  part, 
they  went  to  the  other  extreme,  and  forgot  even 
how  to  be  fair  and  just.  It  is  human  nature 
now,  and  we  can  readily  believe  it  was  human 
nature  then. 

But  before  this  Committee  of  Inquiry  came 
upon  the  ground  to  do  the  work  on  which  they 
were  sent,  Arnold  had  been  busy  in  still  another 
way.  Having  the  advantage  of  a  personal  ac- 
quaintance in  certain  parts  of  Canada,  and  espe- 


46  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

cially  in  Montreal,  he  privately  despatched  par- 
ties to  the  latter  city  to"  serve  him  as  spies  and 
bring  back  information  of  the  British  forces  in 
that  quarter.  The  latter  were  under  the  com- 
mand of  General,  or  Governor  Carleton.  The 
result  of  these  investigations  he  forwarded  to 
Congress  as  soon  as  they  reached  him,  and  in 
laying  this  intelligence  before  that  body,  he  most 
urgently  set  forth  the  possibility  of  capturing  the 
whole  of  Canada  with  a  single  effort.  He  said 
it  could  be  done  with  so  small  a  force  as  two 
thousand  men,  and  volunteered  to  put  himself  at 
the  head  of  such  an  expedition  and  be  responsi- 
ble in  his  own  person  for  the  result  He  wrote 
to  Congress  that  he  well  knew  both  Montreal 
and  Quebec,  having  previously  carried  on  com- 
mercial business  with  persons  residing  in  those 
two  cities ;  these  latter  had  given  him  the  infor- 
mation he  had  desired  so  much.  He  further 
represented  to  Congress  that  there  were  less  than 
six  hundred  fighting  men  at  Montreal  under 
Carleton  at  that  time,  and  they  very  much  scat- 
tered among  the  various  posts  thereabout;  like- 
wise that  certain  parties  in  Montreal,  whom  he 
knew,  and  on  whom  he  could  rely,  had  engaged 


TAKING   OF   TICONDEROGA.  4T 

to  throw  open  the  gates  of  the  city  to  the  Ameri- 
cans whenever  they  should  make  their  appear- 
ance. 

It  is  told  that  these  representations  of  Arnold 
were  quite  reliable.  He  knew  very  well,  it  is 
said,  what  he  was  talking  about.  But  Congress 
hesitated ;  perhaps  because  the  requisite  number 
of  men  were  not  to  be  had  as  soon  as  desired. 
Enough  was  pressing  upon  their  attention,  in  the 
troubles  that  were  going  forward  at  Boston  and 
the  country  around.  Men  and  means  were  not 
to  be  had  so  easily,  especially  the  latter.  If  this 
proposal  of  Arnold  had  been  acted  upon  at  that 
time,  however,  there  is  no  telling  what  a  nevt 
face  it  might  suddenly  have  put  on  the  charactei 
and  results  of  the  war  just  begun. 

As  soon  as  the  Massachusetts  Committee 
came  upon  the  ground  to  begin  their  inquiry 
and  investigations,  Arnold's  temper  underwent  a 
change.  It  has  already  been  shown,  too,  how 
natural  it  was  that  it  should.  He  was  a  bold 
and  brave  volunteer,  even  if  he  was  an  ambitious 
and  impetuous  one,  and  was  serving  the  common 
cause;  and  while  engaged  in  that  service,  with 
the  proper  title  and  authority  in  his  pocket,  he 


48  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

was  visited  by  a  Committee  of  men  who  pulled 
out  their  certificates,  aiid  informed  him  that  they 
had  been  sent  on  to  look  into  his  conduct  and 
capacity.  He  could  not  bear  such  a  thought 
with  patience ;  few  men  of  spirit  would  have 
borne  it;  he  gave  loose  to  his  passion,  and 
denounced  with  fury  and  indignation  the  mm 
who  sought  thus  to  hold  him  up  to  public  scorn, 
declaring  that  he  would  submit  to  no  such  in 
suits,  and  that  he  would  continue  no  longer  in 
any  such  service. 

He  spoke  of  his  services  already,  and  what 
they  had  cost  him ;  of  how  much  he  had  ex- 
pended of  his  own  private  means,  in  order  to 
help  on  this  very  enterprise  upon  the  shores  of 
the  lake ;  of  his  great  surprise  that  he  should  at 
first  be  the  recipient  of  the  confidence  of  the 
Massachusetts  Committee,  and  that  afterwards 
they  should  send  out  men  to  look  into  the  matter 
and  report  if  he  had  skill  and  capacity ;  and 
finally,  of  his  indignation  that  they  should  have 
the  effrontery  to  place  him  now  under  the  com- 
mand of  an  inferior  officer,  which  they  did  by 
directing  him  to  obey  the  orders  thereafter  of  Col. 
Hinman,  of  Connecticut 


TAKING   OF   TICONDEROGA.  49 

With  this  explosion,  he  at  once  forwarded  a 
letter  to  Cambridge,  enclosing  his  resignation. 
Then  he  proceeded  to  discharge  the  men  who 
had  volunteered  to  serve  under  him.  This  last 
step  made  a  good  deal  of  trouble  for  the  time,  as 
perhaps  he  meant  it  should.  For  the  men  under 
him  shared  the  feelings  of  their  brave  com- 
mander, and  did  and  said  all  they  could  to  in- 
crease the  perplexity.  Their  pay  was  behind, 
and  so  was  that  of  the  other  troops ;  and  having 
thrown  out  that  it  would  not  be  remitted  to 
them  at  all,  a  scene  of  confusion  and  disorder 
began  to  show  itself  which  it  took  all  the  art  and 
address  of  the  Committee  alluded  to,  to  quell. 
The  latter  assured  the  troops  of  Arnold  that  they 
should  certainly  be  paid  in  good  time,  and  finally 
succeeded  even  in  inducing  the  most  of  them 
to  enroll  themselves  under  Col.  Easton,  who 
already  had  in  his  command  the  body  of  the 
men  from  Western  Massachusetts,  that  originally 
joined  the  Connecticut  troops  and  Allen's  forces 
in  Vermont. 

Thus  thrown  out  of  command,  and  thoroughly 
disappointed  in  his  plans,  he  quitted  the  region 
and  went  back  to  the  American  camp  in  Cam- 

5 


50  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

bridge.  He  complained  at  head-quarters,  how- 
ever, bitterly.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  inten- 
sity of  his  rage  at  the  course  pursued  by  the  leg- 
islature of  Massachusetts. 


CHAPTER    III. 

IN  THE   WILDERNESS. 

ARNOLD  returned  to  Cambridge  in  July. 
Congress,  then  in  session  in  Philadelphia, 
had  been  planning  an  expedition  against 
Canada,  which  was  to  be  under  the  command  of 
General  Schuyler,  and  to  proceed  by  way  of  the 
great  lakes.     A  committee  came  on  from  Con- 
gress to  consult  with  General  Washington  about 
the  project,  and,  if  possible,  to  devise  some  way 
by  which  another  party  might  be  made  to  cooper- 
ate with  that  under  Schuyler. 

The  complaints  of  Arnold,  all  through  the 
month  of  July,  were  loud  and  frequent.  He 
declared  that  he  was  shamefully  treated  by  the 
Massachusetts  Legislature,  and  appeared  uneasy 
in  the  inactive  condition  to  which  it  had  doomed 
him.  It  was  admitted,  both  by  Washington, 
who  had  just  come  on  and  assumed  the  office  of 


52  .  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

Commander-in-chief  of  the  army,  that  ho  was  a 
brave  man,  and  could  perform  as  much  service 
for  the  colonies  as  any  other ;  it  seemed  a  pity, 
therefore,  that  he  should  be  condemned  to  idle- 
ness and  inaction,  when  there  was  so  much  to  be 
done. 

The  Committee  from  Congress  having  con- 
ferred a  long  time  with  Washington  on  the  sub- 
ject, it  was  at  last  determined  to  send  a  military 
force  into  Canada  by  way  of  the  Kennebec  river, 
in  Maine.  Thus  the  two  forces  would  finally 
come  together  before  Quebec,  and  be  able  to 
operate  to  advantage  against  this  greatest  strong- 
hold of  the  enemy.  The  next  question  was,  who 
should  command  this  expedition  ?  It  lay  in 
Washington's  power  to  answer  that  question, 
and  he  was  not  long  in  making  up  his  mind. 
He  knew  very  well  the  impetuous  courage  and 
hot-headed  daring  of  Arnold,  and  rightly  con- 
cluded that  he  was  just  the  man  to  be  placed  at 
the  head  of  such  a  hazardous  enterprise. 

Accordingly  he  tendered  him  the  appointment, 
together  with  the  title  of  Colonel  in  the  Conti- 
nental army.  Perhaps,  too,  he  put  him  in  this 
position  in  order  to  keep  so  uneasy  a  spirit  quiet, 


IN   THE   WILDERNESS.  53 

as  well  as  to  secure  such  valuable  services  as  his 
to  the  interests  of  his  country.  Arnold  accepted 
the  appointment,  and,  with  his  new  title  of  Col- 
onel, got  his  command  in  readiness  to  move 
northward  at  the  earliest  day  possible. 

There  were  eleven  hundred  men  under  him 
in  all,  composing  thirteen  different  companies, 
which  were  detached  from  the  regular  army  for 
this  special  purpose;  ten  companies  of  New 
England  musketeers,  and  three  companies  of 
riflemen  from  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania.  The 
field  officers  were  as  follows :  Lieut.  Col.  Chris- 
topher Greene  (afterwards  the  hero  of  Red  Bank 
on  the  Delaware),  Lieut.  Col.  Roger  Enos,  and 
Majors  Meigs  and  Bigelow.  Capt.  Daniel  Mor- 
gan commanded  the  riflemen,  a  man  who  became 
very  well  known  as  a  brave  partisan  leader  in 
the  progress  of  the  war. 

The  men  being  all  ready,  they  started  off  from 
the  camp  and  marched  down  to  Newburyport,  at 
which  place  eleven  transports  were  waiting  to 
convey  them  to  the  mouth  of  the  Kennebec  river. 
The  next  day  after  reaching  Newburyport  they 
went  on  board  the  vessels.  Several  small  boats 
had  previously  been  sent  to  explore  the  coast,  in 
5* 


54  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

order  to  learn  if  any  of  the  enemy's  ships  were 
hovering  near,  but  nothing  being  seen  of  them, 
the  expedition  set  sail  as  already  stated. 

A  large  force  of  carpenters  had  been  sent  to 
the  Kennebec  from  Cambridge  some  little  while 
before  this  expedition  set  out;  they  were  to  con- 
struct as  many  as  two  hundred  bateaux  against 
its  arrival,  and  get  all  things  else  in  readiness,  so 
that  when  the  regiment  reached  Gardiner,  which 
they  did  after  a  sail  of  two  days,  they  found  mat- 
ters exactly  as  they  would  have  desired.  Only  a 
slight  mishap  befell  them  on  the  way,  and  that 
was  the  grounding  of  a  couple  of  the  vessels  on 
tlu;  bars  in  the  river;  but  this  did  not  occasion 
them  any  delay,  and  caused  no  damage  what- 
ever to  the  transports.  The  bateaux  were  built 
at  Pittston,  on  the  bank  of  the  river  over  against 
Gardiner,  and  the  men  and  provisions  were  taken 
from  the  transports  and  placed  on  board  them  at 
once.  They  then  all  met  together  again  at  Fort 
Western,  opposite  the  city  of  Augusta,  and  a 
few  miles  farther  up  the  river. 

It  was  at  this  time  late  in  the  autumn.  The 
enterprise  was  certainly  a  hazardous  one  at  any 
period  of  the  year,  but  more  especially  so  with 


IN   THE   WILDERNESS.  55 

winter  and  the  wilderness  before  them.  The 
region  was  new  to  them  all,  and  comparatively 
unknown  to  everybody.  Some  St.  Francis  In- 
dians had  previously  visited  the  American  camp 
at  Cambridge,  and  given  our  officers  some  more 
distinct  ideas  about  that  tract  of  country  than 
they  ever  possessed  before  ;  and  from  them,  too,  it 
was  very  well  known  what  sufferings  this  party 
of  stout-hearted  men  would  be  obliged  to  endure. 
Still,  it  was  thought  best  to  run  the  risk  and  put 
the  plan  to  a  trial. 

Colonel  Montressor,  likewise,  an  officer  in  the 
British  service,  had  gone  through  the  whole  of 
this  howling  wilderness  about  fifteen  years  be- 
fore, and  kept  a  journal  of  his  experience  on  that 
route.  Arnold  had  an  imperfect  copy  of  this 
journal  in  his  possession  at  the  time  he  started 
off,  which,  with  the  information  given  by  the 
Indians  spoken  of,  was  quite  all  he  had  to  guide 
him.  Montressor,  however,  had  gone  up  the 
Chaudiere  river  from  Quebec,  crossed  the  high- 
lands not  far  from  the  head-waters  of  the  Penob- 
scot,  and,  after  sailing  over  the  surface  of  Moose- 
head  Lake,  struck  the  Kennebec  river  at  its  east- 
ern branch.  The  route  mapped  out  by  Arnold 


56  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

was  in  many  important  points  a  different  one 
and  therefore  quite  as  difficult  to  traverse,  per. 
haps,  as  if  Montressor  had  never  written  anj 
journal  at  all. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  a  small  party  was  sent 
forward  to  Chaudiere  pond,  or  Megantic  Lake, 
to  look  about  and  see  what  was  to  be  done  there 
to  help  along  the  main  body  whenever  it  should 
come  up  on  its  toilsome  journey.  Then  another 
party  was  despatched  to  the  Dead  River,  a 
remarkably  still  and  sluggish  stream  flowing  into 
the  Kennebec,  to  ascertain  its  course  and  dis- 
tances. To  describe  these  two  rivers  as  they 
stand  relatively  each  to  the  other,  —  the  Chau- 
diere and  the  Kennebec,  —  it  may  be  said  that, 
taking  their  rise  but  a  few  miles  apart  in  the 
highlands  of  that  region,  they  flow  on,  one  to  the 
St.  Lawrence  on  the  north,  and  the  other  to  the 
Atlantic  ocean  on  the  south ;  thus,  though  they 
empty  at  points  so  widely  apart,  it  is  neverthe- 
less but  a  few  miles  between  them  at  their 
sources.  The  task  before  the  American  party 
was,  therefore,  to  force  their  way  up  the  Kenne- 
bec as  far  as  they  could,  cross  the  country  with 
their  bateaux  to  Lake  Megantic,  which  is  the 


IN   THE   WILDERNESS.  5T 

head-waters  of  the  Chaudiere,  and  afterwards, 
embark  on  the  latter  river  and  pass  down  it  to 
the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  city  of  Quebec. 

The  little  army  knew  they  had  a  hard  task 
before  them,  but  it  was  even  much  harder  than 
they  had  thought  for.  Encumbered  with  their 
arms,  accoutrements,  baggage,  and  provisions,  at 
the  very  outskirts  of  a  wild  and  untravelled  for- 
est, two  hundred  miles  of  the  rockiest  and  stern- 
est country  imaginable  stretching  between  them 
and  the  French  settlements  on  the  frontier,  with 
fierce  river  currents  and  precipitous  torrents  of- 
fering their  obstacles  to  their  daily  progress,  it 
would  not  have  been  very  much  to  be  wondered 
at,  if  many  of  them  had  given  out  at  the  first 
appearance  of  such  astounding  difficulties  and 
dangers.  If  they  got  on,  they  knew  it  must  be 
done  only  by  a  resolution  and  perseverance  such 
as  few  men,  and  never  any  ordinary  men,  are 
known  to  possess.  And  then  the  thought  that 
winter  was  approaching  so  fast  was  quite  enough 
to  appal  almost  any,  even  stouter-hearted  than 
they. 

But  the  journey  was  at  length  seriously  begun. 
As  before  related,  Arnold  pushed  forward  a  party 


58  BENEDICT  ARNOLD 

of  half  a  dozen  men  to  explore  in  the  region  of 
Lake  Megantic,  and  collect  what  intelligence 
they  could  from  the  Indians  who  were  known  to 
be  out  on  their  annual  autumn  hunt  in  that 
vicinity ;  and  another  party  of  the  same  number 
was  sent  on  to  explore  the  courses,  currents,  and 
distances  of  Dead  river,  which  emptied  into  the 
Kennebec  from  the  westward.  Then  the  army 
itself  started.  It  was  divided  into  four  sections, 
each  following  the  other  at  a  distance  of  a  day 
between,  which  prevented  all  confusion  and  per- 
plexity at  the  several  carrying-places  along  on 
the  river.  Morgan  led  the  first  division,  which 
was  composed  of  the  riflemen,  whose  weapons 
would  be  of  most  service  in  the  forest  they  were 
to  penetrate ;  then  came  Greene  and  Bigelow 
with  three  companies  of  musketeers ;  next  fol- 
lowed Major  Meigs  with  four  companies  more ; 
and  finally  came  Major  Enos  with  the  three 
companies  remaining.  The  very  last  man  to 
leave  Fort  Western  was  Arnold  himself,  who 
had  thus  stayed  behind  until  every  soldier  had 
been  safely  embarked. 

As  soon  as  they  were  all  off,  he  got  into  a 
light  birch  canoe  and  started  on  after  them.     He 


IN  THE   WILDERNESS.  59 

passed  the  several  divisions  on  their  way  up  the 
river,  shooting  by  in  his  own  lighter  craft  with 
all  possible  celerity ;  and  on  the  third  day  after 
leaving  Fort  Western,  he  overtook  the  party  of 
Morgan's  riflemen  in  the  van,  which  had  already 
reached  Norridgewock  Falls. 

At  these  Falls,  or  a  little  way  below  them,  on 
a  fine  open  plain  stretching  out  upon  the  eastern 
bank  of  the  river,  was  once  an  Indian  village, 
peopled  by  the  ancient  Norridgewock  tribe ;  and 
a  French  Jesuit,  named  Father  Ralle,  a  learned 
and  zealous  missionary,  had  resided  among  them 
for  twenty-six  years,  wielding  a  great  and  salu- 
tary influence  over  their  untutored  minds.  The 
story  of  this  mission  is  as  romantic  in  some 
particulars  as  it  was  tragical  in  its  termination. 
The  British  settlers  in  Massachusetts  considered 
Father  Ralle  their  enemy,  believing  that  he  pre- 
judiced the  minds  of  the  savages  against  them, 
and  they  therefore  set  on  foot  an  expedition  to 
destroy  the  entire  settlement.  A  party  of  sol- 
diers came  upon  them  very  suddenly,  and  struck 
terror  into  their  hearts.  Unable  from  the  nature 
of  the  attack  to  rally  themselves  for  a  concerted 
defence,  they  were  put  to  the  sword  indiscrimi- 


60  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

nately,  and  not  one  allowed  any  quarter.  Every 
one  belonging  to  this  devoted  little  settlement 
was  slaughtered.  Old  Father  Ralle  was  bar- 
barously scalped,  together  with  many  of  his  In- 
dian disciples.  This  bloody  drama  was  en- 
acted in  the  year  1724,  just  a  year  over  half  a 
century  beiore  Arnold  came  upon  the  place.  He 
found  the  remains  of  the  church  and  altar,  how- 
ever, most  melancholy  memorials  of  the  wild 
havoc  that  had  desolated  this  once  happy  spot. 
A  dictionary  of  the  language  of  these  Norridge- 
wock  Indians,  in  the  handwriting  of  Father  Ralle, 
is  still  preserved  in  the  library  of  Harvard  College. 
At  this  place  the  toils  and  perils  of  the  devoted 
little  army  began  in  good  earnest.  None  of  them 
had  any  conception  of  the  dangers  and  sufferings 
that  were  in  store  for  them,  or  they  would  have 
turned  back  appalled.  Norridgewock  Falls  were 
to  be  gone  around  first,  and  that  was  no  slight  or 
easy  undertaking.  It  was  a  long  mile-and-a- 
quarter  around  to  the  upper  side,  where  they  were 
to  launch  their  fleet  of  boats  again  ;  and  this  dis- 
tance they  had  to  travel  with  their  bateaux,  pro- 
visions, ammunition,  and  stores  besides.  The 
river  banks,  too,  on  both  sides,  were  extremely 


IN   THE   WILDERNESS.  61 

rocky  and  difficult,  without  the  first  sign  of  roads 
or  paths,  the  scowling  wilderness  hemming  them 
in  on  the  right  and  the  left,  and  the  roar  of  the 
Falls  filling  their  ears  with  its  steady  thunder. 

The  work  was  slow  and  toilsome.  A  good 
deal  of  the  bread  which  they  brought  along  with 
them  was  spoiled  by  exposure  to  the  weather, 
which  would  now  make  them  come  short.  Other 
provisions  also  proved  worthless,  upon  examina- 
tion. The  boats  leaked ;  the  men  did  not  know 
how  to  manage  them,  either ;  and  it  was  seven 
days  before  they  completed  this  mile-and-a-quar- 
ter  journey  around  the  Falls  with  their  remaining 
provisions  and  unwieldy  burdens.  Much  of  that 
time  was  consumed  by  the  carpenters  in  making 
repairs  and  putting  the  boats  in  their  former  con- 
dition. 

Arnold  plunged  his  canoe  into  tne  river  again 
as  soon  as  he  reached  it,  and,  taking  an  Indian 
with  him  for  a  guide,  paddled  swiftly  on  past  the 
last  division  of  his  little  army,  until  he  arrived  at 
the  Carratunc  Falls ;  here  they  all  went  through 
the  same  trials  and  delays  as  before,  but  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  around  the  falls  much  sooner 
than  they  had  passed  the  Norridgewock,  The 
6 


62  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

other  two  divisions  of  the  army  were  still  ahead 
of  him. 

Pushing  on,  however,  in  a  couple  of  days  after 
leaving  the  Carratunc  Falls  he  overtook  the  rest 
of  the  men  at  what  is  called  the  Great  Carrying 
Place.  This  is  at  the  point  twelve  miles  below 
where  the  Dead  River  joins  the  Kennebec  on  the 
oast,  the  angle  of  whose  junction  is  almost  a 
right  angle.  The  men  were  there  waiting  for 
him  to  come  up,  before  they  proceeded  to  take 
another  step  forward.  On  reckoning  up  his 
whole  force  again,  Arnold  found  that  they 
counted  only  nine  hundred  and  fifty  out  of  the 
original  eleven  hundred.  This  considerable  fall- 
ing off  was  owing  in  part  to  sickness,  and  partly 
to  desertion.  On  their  way  up  to  the  Great  Car- 
rying Place,  they  had  been  in  the  water  much 
of  the  time,  pushing  the  bateaux  before  them  as 
they  waded  in  the  shallow  places,  the  current 
running  strongly  against  them,  yet  all  the  while 
keeping  up  most  cheerful  spirits  and  evincing  the 
stoutest  resolution.  The  enthusiasm  which  their 
commander  showed,  they  could  not  help  catching 
themselves.  It  was  chiefly  that  which  helped,  or 
led  them  on. 


IN   THE    WILDERNESS.  63 

While  pausing  to  look  over  his  muster-roll  and 
reckon  up  the  amount  of  his  stores,  he  found  that 
he  had  provisions  for  twenty-five  days,  whereas 
he  calculated  that  he  could  reach  the  Chaudiere 
River  and  the  straggling  French  settlements  along 
its  course  in  ten  days,  at  the  farthest.  The  first 
stretch,  from  the  Great  Carrying  Place  to  the  Dead 
River,  was  a  distance  across  the  country  of  fifteen 
miles.  Three  ponds  broke  the  land  travel,  the 
first  of  which  was  some  three  miles  from  the 
Kennebec.  The  road  was  craggy  and  very  diffi- 
cult. They  were  obliged  to  procure  oxen  to  drag 
the  bateaux  across  the  land,  which  was  done  by 
the  patient  animals  only  with  the  greatest  labor. 
The  men  strapped  their  baggage  to  their  own 
backs,  and  likewise  loaded  themselves  with  the 
provisions  and  stores. 

This  picture  of  an  army  tramping  through  the 
wilderness,  was  a  wild  and  most  exciting  one.  It 
was  a  passage  quite  as  heroic  as  the  more  famed 
retreat  of  the  Ten  Thousand  described  by  the 
Greek  writer,  Xenophon.  It  was  in  the  Fall 
time,  and  all  the  splendors  of  the  season  were  at 
their  highest.  The  weather  was  superb.  The 
leaves  in  the  forest  were  changing  rapidly,  fur- 


64  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

nishing  the  most  gorgeous  colorings  on  which  the 
eye  could  desire  to  rest.  The  waters  in  the  ponds 
they  came  to  were  calm  and  unruffled,  and  in  the 
placid  bosom  of  each  the  spacious  dome  of  the 
sky  was  perfectly  reflected.  And  the  stained 
leaves  of  Autumn  scattered  themselves  over  the 
surface  of  the  ponds  as  they  fell,  forming  a 
beautiful  mosaic  pavement  around  their  borders 
which  heightened  indescribably  their  sequestered 
beauty. 

The  boats  were  launched  on  the  bosom  of  the 
first  pond,  and  the  men  embarked  again.  They 
found  great  abundance  of  luscious  salmon  trout 
within  the  lake,  which  they  caught  in  astonishing 
numbers.  Probably  these  tempting  fish,  now 
sought  after  by  the  sportsman  with  so  much  ea- 
gerness, were  never  before  disturbed  by  the  ap- 
proach of  the  white  man.  If  the  Indians  drew 
them  out,  as  we  have  good  reason  to  believe  they 
did,  they  took  no  more  of  them  than  just  enough 
to  satisfy  their  immediate  wants.  But  we  venture 
to  say  that  this  superb  fish  was  never  hunted  by  an 
army  before.  This  timely  wild  game  afforded  the 
troops  a  great  deal  of  comfort,  jaded  and  dispir- 
ited as  they  were  getting  to  be,  and  in  want,  too, 


IN   THE   WILDERNESS.  65 

of  some  such  delicacy  as  this  new  food  was 
fitted  to  furnish  them.  A  couple  of  oxen  were 
likewise  killed,  and  thus  a  morsel  of  fresh  beef 
was  divided  up  among  those  who  most  stood  in 
need  of  it. 

Alternately  by  water  and  land  they  passed  on, 
now  launching  their  boats  on  the  ponds,  and  now 
dragging  all  after  them  from  one  portage  to 
another.  Arnold  directed  the  carpenters  to  build 
a  block  house  at  the  second  portage,  within  which 
were  placed  such  as  were  sick  and  otherwise 
unable  to  withstand  the  hardships  of  the  journey. 
He  likewise  ordered  a  second  house  of  this  des- 
cription to  be  erected  on  the  banks  of  the  Ken- 
nebec  river,  for  the  purpose  of  storing  what 
provisions  might  be  sent  up  for  the  army  from 
Norridgewock.  In  case  he  should  find  it  neces- 
sary to  retreat,  on  account  of  the  enemy's  advance 
or  the  assailing  rigors  of  approaching  Winter,  he 
wished  to  have  something  to  fall  back  upon,  and 
to  feel  that  he  was  at  the  same  time  safe. 

It  was  during  this  slow  passage  of  the  little 

army  across  from  the  Great  Carrying  Place  on 

the  Kennebec  to  the  Chaudiere  river,  that  Arnold 

himself  learned  how  pleasant  was  that  same  spirit 

6* 


66  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

of  treachery  which  he  afterwards  practised  on  a 
much  larger  scale.  He  formed  the  design  of 
sending  forward  a  couple  of  Indians,  one  of 
whom  was  named  Eneas,  to  certain  gentlemen 
of  his  acquaintance  in  Quebec,  and  likewise  to 
General  Schuyler,  with  whom  it  was  intended 
that  his  command  should  cooperate.  With  these 
Indians  also  went  a  white  man,  Jakins  by  name, 
whose  orders  were  to  search  for  the  French 
settlements  along  on  the  Chaudiere  river,  obtain 
all  the  information  he  could,  make  as  friendly  an 
impression  upon  them  as  he  was  able,  and  then 
return  and  report  his  success.  The  two  Indians 
carried  letters  in  Arnold's  hand-writing  to  the 
gentlemen  in  Quebec,  upon  the  reception  of 
which  much  depended.  But  the  letters  never 
reached  those  to  whom  they  were  sent.  The  In- 
dians proved  arrant  traitors.  Instead  of  obeying 
the  directions  given  them,  they  delivered  them 
into  the  hands  of  other  parties,  and  thus  sowed  a 
crop  of  mischief  for  Arnold  and  his  men,  the 
harvest  of  which  they  reaped  not  a  great  while 
after.  It  was  always  supposed,  from  the  best 
information  that  could  be  obtained  about  them, 
that  they  were  carried  directly  to  the  Lieut  Gov- 


IN   THE    WILDERNESS.  67 

ernor  of  Canada,  who  was  thus  put  on  his  guard 
against  the  approach  of  the  bold  American  party. 
In  fact,  Eneas,  the  treacherous  Indian  fellow,  was 
some  time  after  seen  in  Quebec  by  those  who 
knew  him  in  the  army. 

With  a  new  feeling  of  joy  they  at  last  came  to 
ihe  banks  of  the  Dead  River.  This  was  certainly 
one  step  gained,  and  a  very  important  one,  too. 
They  were  conscious  of  having  met  and  con- 
quered difficulties,  before  which  three  short 
months  earlier  they  would  have  stood  appalled 
and  disheartened.  They  had  accomplished  more 
than  they  thought  mortal  man  could  accomplish. 

Dead  River  was  so  named  from  its  slow  and 
almost  motionless  current.  It  was  rather  devious 
in  places,  but,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  slight 
falls,  or  rapids,  was  everywhere  as  calm  as  a 
summer's  morning ;  never  fretting  and  fuming 
like  many  a  little  inland  stream,  and  nowhere 
disposed  to  chafe  against  its  banks  because  im- 
patient to  get  on  faster.  All  along  its  course  its 
path  was  placid,  gentle,  and  dreamy.  It  was  on 
such  a  stream  as  this  that  the  men  launched  their 
boats  anew,  with  hearts  refreshed  at  so  much 
more  agreeable  prospects.  They  came  in  sight 


68  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

of  a  very  high  and  bold  mountain  as  they  sailed 
onward,  whose  base  came  down  to  the  river,  and 
whose  distant  summit  was  already  covered  with 
snow.  It  seemed  like  a  great  friend  to  them 
all,  —  a  huge  rock  casting  down  its  welcome 
shadow  in  the  wilderness.  Here  they  encamped 
for  a  couple  of  days.  Arnold  believed  it  was  a 
good  place  to  find  rest.  There  was  not  a  single 
one,  either,  who  was  not  glad  enough  to  lie  down 
under  its  broad  shelter. 

It  is  said  Arnold  run  up  the  American  flag  to 
the  peak  of  his  tent  while  here  encamped  ;  and  it  is 
solely  on  account  of  this  slight  incident  that  the 
little  settlement  since  built  up  on  the  spot  goes 
by  the  name  of  the  "  Flag-Staff."  There  is  like- 
wise  another  story  connected  with  this  same 
mountain,  which  deserves  mention  as  well.  It  is 
a  pleasant  tradition  that  has  become  smoky  from 
being  told  so  many  times  in  all  the  old  chimney- 
corners  of  the  neighborhood.  Major  Bigelow  — 
so  says  the  tradition,  —  climbed  to  its  top,  expect- 
ing when  there  to  rest  his  longing  eyes  on  the 
far-off  hills  of  Canada,  and  the  roofs  and  spires 
of  ancient  Quebec.  It  was  a  very  courageous 
undertaking,  and  the  man  who  carried  it  through 


IN    THE    WILDERNES.S.  69 

certainly  deserves  more  than  a  mere  mention  for 
his  exploit.  From  this  circumstance  the  moun- 
tain received  the  name  Mount  Bigelow,  which  it 
has  faithfully  kept  to  this  day.  The  enterprising 
Major  failed  to  find  the  particular  objects  after 
which  he  gazed  from  its  height  into  Canada ;  but 
his  eyes  were  greeted  with  another  view  that 
must  have  afforded  him  quite  as  agreeable  an 
impression,  if  he  was  a  lover  of  nature  in  her 
inmost  solitude.  There  were  mountain  peaks  all 
around  and  beneath  him,  and  he  the  king,  as  it 
were,  of  them  all.  Not  an  echo  broke  the  solemn 
stillness  of  the  scene.  The  wild  animals  that 
peopled  this  awful  solitude,  were  unused  to  the 
footfall  of  man,  and  had  never  learned  to.  flee 
from  the  intrusion  of  his  presence.  Beavers  and 
other  wild  game  frequented  the  coverts  and  the 
glens,  sharing  the  gloom  and  the  silence  with 
none  but  those  who  were  made  after  their  own 
kind. 

While  they  rested  at  the  foot  of  this  mountain, 
Arnold  found  that  their  provisions  were  coming 
short,  and  sent  back  a  party  of  ninety  for  a  new 
supply.  And  immediately  upon  issuing  this 
order,  he  started  forward  again.  Morgan  had 


70  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

already  gone  ahead  with  his  party  of  riflemen, 
and  Arnold  came  close  after.  Hardly  had  they 
begun  their  march,  when  a  violent  rain  set  in  that 
continued  for  three  days,  successively,  drenching 
them  all  to  the  skin  and  damping  their  ardor 
excessively.  Everything  about  them  was  soaked 
with  water,  clothes  and  provisions  alike.  Late 
one  night  they  lay  down  in  their  hasty  encamp- 
ment on  the  bank  of  the  stream,  when  the  swollen 
torrents  from  the  surrounding  hills  carne  rushing 
down  upon  them,  the  river  rising  eight  feet  at  the 
time ;  so  suddenly  were  they  assailed,  that  they 
had  just  got  up  and  left  their  camp  when  the 
waters  poured  over  the  spot  in  a  flood.  Many 
of  them  must  have  been  drowned,  had  they 
remained  where  they  were  but  a  few  minutes 
longer.  The  men  took  to  the  boats  with  all  pos- 
sible haste,  to  find  the  entire  plain  submerged,  a 
roaring  torrent  all  around  them,  and  the  channel 
completely  choked  up  with  the  drift  wood  that 
had  been  brought  down  by  the  swollen  current. 
As  it  was,  seven  of  the  bateaux  were  overturned 
by  the  headlong  violence  of  the  angry  stream, 
much  of  the  remaining  provisions  was  lost,  and 
the  men  barely  escaped  with  their  lives. 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  Tl 

This  was  a  severe  blow  indeed.  Arnold  had . 
sent  back  for  a  fresh  supply  of  provisions  already; 
and  now  to  lose  a  part  even  of  what  was  left, 
was  enough  to  infuse  terror  into  hearts  much 
stouter  than  theirs.  They  were  thus  more  per- 
plexed than  ever.  It  was  next  to  impossible  to 
tell  which  one  of  the  many  streams,  now  all 
swollen  to  the  size  of  the  river  itself,  conducted 
them  in  their  true  course ;  and  hence  they  pad- 
dled far  up  into  many  a  creek  and  bay,  down 
which  they  were  soon  obliged  to  retrace  their 
way. 

Plunged  into  a  maze  of  dangers  and  difficulties 
like  these,  Arnold  found  himself  still  thirty  miles 
distant  from  the  head  of  the  Chaudiere  River, 
with  provisions  enough  to  last  them  not  more 
than  a  fortnight.  A  little  undecided  what  to  do, 
he  called  a  council  of  war.  The  officers  looked 
the  matter  straight  in  the  face,  bad  as  it  was,  and 
decided  that  it  was  best  to  send  back  the  sick 
ancT disabled,  and  to  push  on  with  all  rapidity 
themselves. 

Colonels  Greene  and  Enos  were  with  the  rear 
party.  Arnold  despatched  to  them  a  written 
order,  directing  them  to  hasten  forward  with  as 


72  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

many  of  their  able-bodied  and  healthy  men  as< 
they  could  supply  with  provisions  for  a  fortnight, 
and  to  leave  the  others  to  make  their  way  back  to 
Norridgewock.  Enos  behaved  either  like  a  cow- 
ard or  a  fool ;  for  he  instantly  led  off  his  whole 
division,  and  returned  to  the  American  camp  at 
Cambridge  again.  The  army  was  greatly  excited 
to  see  them  back  again,  especially  as  it  was 
known  in  what  a.  situation  they  had  left  their 
imperilled  comrades.  Enos  was  tried  by  a  court- 
martial,  but  acquitted  because  it  was  proved  that 
he  was  in  the  heart. of  the  wilderness  at  the  time, 
and  without  sufficient  provisions  to  sustain  his  di- 
vision. But  Washington  never  looked  upon  him 
with  favor  again,  and  Enos  saw  it ;  he  therefore  left 
the  army  at  the  earliest  opportunity  that  offered. 
As  Arnold  pressed  forward  with  a  small 
detachment  of  sixty  men  under  Capt  Hanchet, 
intending  to  reach  the  settlements  as  soon  as 
he  could  and  send  back  provisions,  the  weather 
suddenly  grew  colder,  and  snow  began  to  fall  in 
large  quantities,  chilling  them  through.  While 
they  were  dragging  and  pushing  their  boats 
through  the  water,  ice  was  forming  in  the  river, 
and  in  all  the  ponds  and  marshes  in  which  the 


IN   THE   WILDERNESS.  73 

Dead  River  took  its  rise.  They  passed  around 
seventeen  different  falls  in  this  region ;  and  on 
one  of  the  bleakest  and  most  blustering  of  late 
Autumn  days,  with  the  snow  lying  two  inches 
deep  on  the  ground,  they  came  to  the  Highlands 
to  which  the  streams'  of  New  England  and 
Canada  both  trace  their  origin,  and  from  which 
they  both  flow  in  opposite  directions  to  empty 
themselves  at  last  into  the  Atlantic.  From  the 
Highlands  they  had  to  drag  their  bateaux  four 
long  miles  more  to  a  little  stream  that  took  them 
to  Lake  Megantic,  the  source  of  the  Chaudiere 
River. 

Lieuts.  Steele  and  Church  had  previously  been 
sent  forward  from  the  Great  Carrying  Place  on 
the  Kennebec,  with  a  small  party  to  explore  the 
way  and  make  paths  at  the  portages  as  they  went 
along;  and  here  at  Lake  Megantic  they  were 
found,  glad  enough  to  see  signs  of  the  army 
coming  up.  Jakins  was  with  them — the  same 
who  had  been  sent  forward  to  the  French  settle- 
ments along  the  Chaudiere ;  he  brought  word  that 
the  people  were  quite  friendly  in  their  disposition 
towards  them,  and  that  they  would  receive  the 
little  army  with  expressions  of  joy. 


74  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

There  are  mountains  all  around  Lake  Megan- 
tic,  which  is  itself  a  body  of  water  thirteen  miles 
in  length  and  about  three  in  breadth.  On  the 
eastern  shore  Arnold  formed  his  camp.  The  very 
next  morning  he  ordered  fifty-five  men,  under 
command  of  Capt.  Hanchet,  to  follow  the  lake 
along  its  shore,  while  he  took  thirteen  men, 
together  with  Lieuts.  Church  and  Steele,  with 
five  bateaux  and  a  birch  canoe,  and  hastened  on 
down  the  Lake  and  Chaudiere  to  the  French 
settlements.  He  was  desirous  of  obtaining  pro- 
visions and  sending  them  back  to  the  suffering 
army  with  all  despatch. 

This  journey  by  water  was  a  fearful  one  for 
them  all.  The  moment  they  got  out  of  the  out- 
let of  the  Lake  and  struck  the  river,  —  which 
was  some  three  hours  after  they  started  from  the 
little  camp  in  the  morning,  —  they  found  their 
boats  plunged  into  a  seething  and  boiling  current 
from  which  it  seemed  impossible  to  extricate 
them.  They  were  forced  to  lash  their  baggage 
and  provisions  fast  to  the  boats,  and  trust  to  the 
merciless  madness  of  the  stream.  They  had  no 
guides  with  them,  and  knew  no  more  of  the 
course  they  should  pursue  than  they  did  of  the 


IN  THE   WlLDEfcNfiSS.  75 

treacherous  whirlpools  and  angry  flood  which 
threatened  every  moment  to  overwhelm  them. 
The  bed  of  the  river  was  of  rocks,  over  whose 
jagged  surface  the  waters  foamed  and  fretted 
like  fabled  furies.  Of  a  sudden  their  hearts  were 
filled  with  a  new  terror.  The  roar  and  thunder 
as  of  a  waterfall  sounded  like  the  ring  of  fate  in 
their  ears.  They  were  plunged  among  the  rapids 
without  the  least  warning.  Three  of  the  boats 
were  instantly  dashed  to  fragments  against  the 
rocks,  and  the  six  men  in  them  were  thrown  into 
the  boiling  current.  They  managed,  however,  to 
escape  with  their  lives,  but  it  was  only  after  a 
long  struggle  in  the  water. 

This  accident  proved  but  a  merciful  provi- 
dence, however,  for  just  beyond  the  rapids  was  a 
high  fall,  over  which  they  must  all  have  been 
plunged,  had  they  not  been  thus  fortunately 
warned  of  their  danger.  It  was  one  of  the  six 
men  who  were  rescued  that  made  the  discovery. 
They  were  all  struck  dumb  with  terror,  at  the 
thought  of  their  narrow  escape. 

For  seventy  miles  they  sailed  on,  now  and 
then  carrying  their  boats,  as  before,  around  other 
falls,  until  they  reached  the  little  French  village 


76  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

of  Sertigan,  four  miles  beyond  where  the  river 
Des  Loupis  joins  the  Chaudiere.  There  they 
were  received  in  the  most  friendly  manner  by 
the  simple  inhabitants,  and  Arnold  was  freely 
supplied  with  what  provisions  he  wanted  for  the 
detachments  he  had  left  behind.  He  paid  them 
for  all  he  took,  and  received  abundant  expres- 
sions of  their  favor  and  gratitude  in  return.  As 
lately  as  the  year  1848,  one  of  the  old  settlers  in 
this  charming  valley  of  the  Chaudiere,  showed 
to  an  American  traveller  an  order  for  cattle  and 
flour  signed  by  Arnold,  which  had  been  treasured 
as  a  most  valuable  memento  of  those  days. 
The  old  man  was  ninety-three  years  of  age,  and 
all  of  the  old  settlers  there,  as  well  as  himself, 
were  wont  to  speak  of  this  descent  of  the  "  good 
Bostonians"  into  their  peaceful  and  happy  val- 
ley, as  one  of  the  most  important  and  memora- 
ble events  of  their  lives. 

Arnold  sent  back  the  flour  and  cattle  by  some 
Indians  and  Canadians,  and  the  supply  arrived 
just  in  time  to  save  the  remainder  of  the  little 
army  from  total  annihilation.  They  were  in  a 
truly  lamentable  condition,  suffering  for  want  of 
needful  food.  They  had  already  butchered  their 


IN  THE   WILDERNESS.  77 

last  ox,  and  eaten  him ;  all  their  boats  were  de. 
stroyed,  together  with  the  provisions  they  con 
tained ;  the  men  even  dug  and  clawed  into  thf 
sandy  beach,  like  animals,  and  tore  out  such 
roots  as  they  could  discover  there;  they  washed 
their  moose-skin  moccasins  in  the  river,  scraping 
away  the  sand  and  dirt  with  great  care,  and  then 
threw  them  into  a  kettle  of  hot  water  and  boiled 
them,  hoping  to  extract  some  little  mucilage  from 
them  for  nourishment;  they  even  chewed  the 
tasteless  leather  itself;  a  dog  was  killed  and  they 
made  broth  from  his  flesh ;  and  General  Dear- 
borne,  who  was  of  the  party,  gave  up  his  dog, 
which  was  a  very  large  one  and  a  general  favor- 
ite, to  one  of  the  companies,  and  they  killed  and 
divided  him  up,  eating  every  part  of  him,  not 
even  excepting  his  entrails. 

Had  not  aid  reached  them  as  it  did,  they  must 
all  very  soon  have  perished  from  want.  As  it 
was,  they  had  been  without  food  for  forty-eight 
hours  already.  Now  they  took  fresh  courage, 
and  soon  emerged  from  the  forest  and  came  for- 
ward in  separate  detachments,  uniting  again  at 
Sertigan.  From  this  place,  all  along  the  banks 
of  the  Chaudiere  to  the  St.  Lawrence,  was  one 


78  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

of  the  most  beautiful  valleys  known,  and  those 
who  peopled  it  were  peaceful,  happy,  and  indus- 
trious, and  surrounded  with  all  the  comforts  that 
make  life  desirable. 

Before  he  left  Cambridge,  Arnold  had  been 
furnished  by  Washington  with  copies  of  a  pro- 
clamation to  the  inhabitants  of  this  valley  in  the 
French  language,  which  he  was  directed  to  scat- 
ter among  them  very  freely.  This  paper  only  set 
forth  the  origin  of  the  present  war  with  England, 
and  expressed  the  wish  that  the  people  addressed 
would  at  once  join  themselves  to  the  cause  of 
America  and  Freedom.  It  was  written  in  good 
taste,  and  calculated  to  produce  the  desired 
effect.  Arnold  circulated  copies  of  this  paper 
with  great  judiciousness,  and  found  that  it 
gained  him  friends  wherever  it  went.  No  man 
ever  went  away  from  a  place  leaving  so  many 
and  such  strong  admirers  behind  him.  He  paid 
promptly  for  all  he  took,  and  received  the  ready 
and  willing  cooperation  of  the  population  in 
return. 

Taken  all  together,  this  is  one  of  the  most 
romantic  and  remarkable  expeditions  on  record. 
For  thirty-two  days  the  men  were  in  a  trackless 


IN   THE   WILDERNESS.  79 

wilderness,  with  no  guides,  and  meeting  no  face 
of  human  settlers  along  the  whole  of  that  weary 
route.  Yet  there  was  no  murmuring.  They 
pushed  on  with  persistent  courage  and  energy. 
Troops  made  of  stuff  like  this,  it  was  impossible 
to  vanquish  anywhere.  There  were  women,  too, 
following  in  the  train  of  the  army,  who  bore  up 
as  stoutly  against  disaster  as  any  of  the  rest. 
They  all  alike  were  obliged  to  wade  through  the 
mud  and  the  water,  the  ice  on  the  surface  of 
the  latter  being  sometimes  so  thick  that  the  sol- 
diers had  to  break  it  with  the  butts  of  their  guns. 
Of  those  who  accompanied  Col.  Arnold  on 
this  desperate  expedition,  there  were  not  a  few 
who  afterwards  became  celebrated  in  the  history 
of  our  revolutionary  -struggle,  and  earned  the 
lasting  gratitude  of  their  countrymen.  Among 
those  may  be  named  Morgan,  Dearborne, 
Greene,  Febiger,  Meigs,  and  Burr.  Aaron  Burr 
was  then  an  amiable  and  accomplished  young 
man  of  but  twenty  years,  and  held  the  rank  of  a 
cadet.  This  was  excellent  discipline  for  them 
all,  and  such  as  they  would  be  likely  to  carry 
into  the  service  whenever  they  were  called  out 
into  action. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

GOING   AGAINST  QUEBEC. 

ARNOLD  took  forty  Norriclgewock  In- 
dians along  with  him  under  Nat  alls,  and 
hastened  forward  from  these  peaceful 
French  settlements  in  the  direction  of  Quebec, 
the  object  of  all  his  hopes  and  ambition.  In  ten 
days  he  reached  Point  Levi,  over  opposite  that 
city.  Here  he  waited  for  his  little  army  to  cornc 
up.  By  the  13th  day  of  November  they  were  all 
with  him  again.  Eneas,  the,  rascally  Indian,  had 
previously  given  up  the  letters  he  entrusted  to 
him  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and  by  this 
means  they  were  apprised  of  Arnold's  approach. 
Eneas  said  himself  that  he  had  been  taken  pris- 
oner, but  the  probability  is  that  he  told  an  out- 
right lie  about  it. 

There  were  no  boats,  therefore,  on  the  southern 
side  of  the  St.  Lawrence  river,  the  British  having 


GOING   AGAINST   QUEBEC.  81 

removed  them  all,  lest  the  American  party,  of 
whose  approach  they  had  heard,  should  use  them 
for  crossing.  But  Arnold  contrived,  through  the 
aid  of  his  Indian  allies,  to  get  together  some 
thirty  or  forty  birch  canoes,  with  which  he  set 
out  to  cross  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day.  at 
nine  o'clock.  They  paddled  across  as  silent]*;  as 
possible  in  the  dark,  managing  to  pass  the  frigate 
Lizard  and  a  sloop-of-war  that  lay  anchored  in 
the  river,  which  had  been  ordered  there  for  the 
very  purpose  of  preventing  their  approach.  Three 
several  times  did  these  frail  boats  carry  their 
freights  of  armed  men,  and  by  &arly  dawn  five 
hundred  troops  were  transported  to  Wolfe's  Cove 
and  nearly  ready  to  begin  offensive  operations. 
They  had  just  landed  the  third  party,  leaving  a 
hundred  and  fifty  yet  to  be  sent  for,  when  some 
sentries  in  one  of  the  enemy's  boats  detected 
their  movements.  The  American  party  on  the 
instant  fired  into  the  boat,  and  three  men  fell 
over  the  sides  into  the  water,  dead.  Of  course 
to  think  of  going  across,  after  that,  for  the  remain- 
ing hundred  and  fifty,  would  have  been  the  height 
of  foolhardiness. 

Upon  this  sudden  and  most  unfortunate  alarm, 


82  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

Arnold  saw  that  he  must  make  haste  or  it  would 
soon  be  over  with  him.  If  the  garrison  was 
aroused,  all  would  be  lost.  It  was  now  a  little 
past  four  o'clock  in  the  morning.  He  put  him- 
self at  the  head  of  his  five  hundred  men,  and  led 
them  up  the  sides  of  the  frowning  precipice  on 
whose  summit  lay  the  immortal  Plains  of  Abra- 
ham. The  young  and  heroic  General  Wolfe  had 
led  an  army  up  those  same  heights  sixteen  years 
before,  and  died  just  as  the  cheering  sounds  of 
victory  rang  in  his  ears.  The  ascent  was  rugged 
and  extremely  toilsome,  but  they  had  an  Arnold 
to  lead  them  on,  and  there  was  no  faltering  with 
him.  Up,  up,  up  they  climbed,  until  at  last  their 
eyes  rested  on  the  sight  they  had  so  long  coveted 
'There  was  Quebec  before  them,  its  roofs  and 
spires  pencilled  dimly  against  the  gray  sky  of  tli<- 
early  morning.  From  the  day  on  which  they 
marched  out  of  camp  at  Cambridge  with  the 
good  wishes  of  the  whole  army  following  them, 
all  along  through  their  solitary  and  painful  pil- 
grimage in  the  wilderness,  wading  and  paddling 
and  pushing  their  boats  up  the  lakes  and  rivers, 
this  single  view  had  danced  like  a  dream  of 
delight  before  their  eyes ;  and  now,  on  this  cold 


GOING  AGAINST  QUEBEC.  83 

and   dreary  morning  of  November,  it  was  real- 
ized. 

There  was  the  city,  and  here  were  not  many 
more  than  five  hundred  men,  worn  and  weary 
and  dispirited,  with  whom  to  take  it.  Was  ever 
any  enterprise  so  foolish  on  the  very  face  of  it  ? 
Did  it  look  as  if  the  leader  in  this  fearful  expe- 
dition had  first  sat  down  and  counted  the  cost  ? 
They  were  without  artillery,  and  almost  half  of 
their  muskets  had  been  spoiled  on  their  march. 
The  garrison  within  the  massive  walls  of  the  cas- 
tle and  fort  had  been  strengthened  by  fresh  acces- 
sions of  troops  from  Sorel  and  Newfoundland, 
and  was  now  quite  eighteen  hundred  strong. 
These  were  made  up  of  regulars,  militia,  and 
marines.  Many  have  wondered  that  so  superior  * 
a  force  did  not  at  once  sally  out  and  destroy  the 
weaker  one ;  but  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  a 
majority  of  the  militia  were  ready  to  desert  to 
the  Americans,  in  case  an  opportunity  was  of- 
fered them,  and  it  was  not  deemed  safe  to  run 
the  risk  of  giving  them  the  opportunity. 

Arnold,  however,  still  placed  great  reliance 
upon  the  friendly  feelings  of  the  inhabitants  of 
the  city,  as  well  as  of  the  militia  composing  the 


84  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

garrison,  and  who  were  supposed  to  be  at  least 
two-thirds  of  the  whole.  He  wished  to  be  per- 
fectly well  satisfied  of  this  friendship,  and  so 
resorted  to  an  expedient  which  he  thought  would 
decide  the  matter  at  once.  Drawing  up  his  little 
band  before  the  walls,  and  within  eight  hundred 
yards  of  the  same,  he  ordered  them  to  give  three 
rousing  cheers ;  by  this  means  he  was  in  hope  to 
bring  out  the  regulars  on  the  open  plain,  when 
the  militia,  together  with  the  people  of  the  town, 
would  throw  wide  open  the  gates  and  permit 
them  to  enter  without  opposition.  The  men 
gave  the  cheers  as  directed,  but  the  only  substan- 
tial answers  they  got  were  sent  them  from  the 
mouths  of  the  cannon  that  were  fired  in  return 
from  the  walls.  To  be  sure,  the  parapets  of  the 
walls  were  dark  with  clustering  people,  and  they 
huzzaed  in  return  ;  but  Cramahe,  the  Lieut.  Gov- 
ernor, knew  better  than  to  trust  too  much  to  the 
loyalty  of  the  population.  The  disaffection  was 
very  widely  spread,  the  old  animosity  between 
the  English  and  French  races  continuing  as  deep 
and  strong  as  ever.  The  English  were  dissatis- 
fied with  the  French  laws,  and  the  French  had 
no  objection  to  seeing  their  ancient  enemy  humil- 
iated. 


GOING   AGAINST   QUEBEC.  85 

x 

Failing  in  this  artifice,  Arnold  tried  another ; 
and  this  seems  to  have  been  even  more  shallow 
and  foolish  than  the  first.  He  sent  a  flag  to  the 
commandant  of  the  garrison,  summoning  him, 
with  all  the  pomp  of  inflated  language,  to  sur- 
render without  further  delay.  Inasmuch  as  the 
garrison  were  more  than  two  to  Arnold's  one, 
this  looks  to  us  a  little  preposterous.  The  com- 
mandant not  only  treated  the  approach  of  the 
flag  with  contempt,  but  fired  upon  it  as  soon  as 
it  came  within  range.  Some  of  those  Who  were 
there  with  the  Americans  at  the  time,  thought 
Arnold  did  this  more  for  display  than  anything 
else,  and  to  gratify  his  excessive  vanity.  He  was 
once  in  the  habit  of  buying  horses  of  certain  per- 
sons in  Quebec,  which  he  shipped  from  New 
Haven  to  the  West  Indies,  in  the  way  of  his 
trade;  and  among  these  persons  he  was  still 
known  by  the  name  of  the  "  horsejockey."  He 
was  therefore  quite  anxious  to  impress  upon  these 
persons  a  new  idea  of  his  importance,  bearing,  as 
he  did,  the  honorable  military  title  of  Colonel. 
This  second  stratagem  is  chargeable  almost 
entirely,  therefore,  to  his  vanity,  and  his  disposi- 
tion to  establish  of  a  sudden  a  great 


86  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

among  those  who  never  saw  any  special  great- 
ness in  him  before. 

Arnold  went  through  all  the  military  forms 
and  ceremonies  in  the  matter,  however.  The 
summons  to  surrender  which  he  entrusted  to  the 
flag,  to  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  Lieut.  Gov- 
ernor Cramahd,  was  made  up  of  high  sounding 
phrases,  invoking  him  in  the  name  and  authority 
of  the  Congress  of  America  to  yield  up  his  posi- 
tion, and  throwing  out  the  most  terrific  threats  in 
case  he  should  either  refuse  or  delay  obedience  to 
his  demand.  As  before  stated,  the  very  idea  of 
receiving  a  flag  with  a  message  from  so  inconsid- 
erable an  enemy,  was  hooted  down  with  disdain, 
and  the  bearer  was  fired  upon  from  the  walls  and 
compelled  to  make  good  his  retreat.  The  Brit- 
ish were  safely  and  snugly  entrenched  within  a 
strongly  walled  town,  with  an  abundance  both 
of  defences  and  provisions ;  while  the  little  Amer- 
ican force  were  shivering  and  half  starved  upoer 
an  elevated  plain,  with  the  wintry  winds  howling 
around  them  from  every  quarter,  and  the  sullen 
skies  promising  them  no  more  welcome  visitants 
than  the  icy  sleets  and  snows  that  were  to  blow 
out  of  them, 


GOING   AGAINST   QUEBEC.  87 

Yet  this  same  scanty,  ill-fed,  and  freezing  body 
of  men  struck  a  sort  of  terror  into  the  hearts  of 
the  Canadians,  too,  and  it  was  a  terror  mixed 
somewhat  with  admiration.  They  believed  it 
was  only  by  the  aid  of  some  great  miracle  that 
an  army  could  have  emerged  from  the  depths  of 
a  gloomy  forest  at  such  a  time  of  the  year; 
indeed,  it  was  a  wonder  to  them  how  they  had 
threaded  this  wilderness  at  all,  with  its  streams, 
and  swamps,  and  mountains,  and  rocks.  Be- 
sides this,  they  gave  credence  to  the  stories  about 
the  vast  numbers  of  the  strangers,  and  were  ready 
to  believe  that  the  entire  wilderness  was  swarm- 
ing with  them.  Morgan's  company  of  riflemen, 
who  led  the  van,  wore  linen  frocks,  which  was  the 
usual  uniform  at  the  time  for  troops  of  that  char- 
acter ;  and  the  inhabitants  soon  got  the  story 
going  around  that  they  were  cased  in  iron,  and 
that  their  courage  and  physical  strength  corre- 
sponded to  such  a  massive  style  of  defensive  uni- 
form. 

It  was  just  then  that  Arnold  received  the  news 
that  Governor  Carleton,  who  had  managed  to 
make  his  escape  from  the  British  fleet  that  was 
stopped  at  Sorel  by  the  American  batteries,  had 


88  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

suddenly  started  on  for  Quebec,  and  would  soon 
be  there.  Arnold  stopped  short,  therefore,  where 
he  was,  and  examined  into  the  condition  of  his 
force.  He  was  astounded  to  learn  that  a  great 
number  of  his  men  were  invalids,  that  more  were 
entirely  destitute  of  needed  clothing,  that  nearly 
a  hundred  of  their  muskets  were  good  for  nothing 
as  weapons  to  fight  with,  and  that  nearly  all  the 
cartridges  for  the  balance  of  the  guns  were  spoiled 
by  the  water,  there  being  not  more  than  five 
rounds  left  to  each  man.  Right  upon  this  fol- 
lowed the  intelligence  that  the  enemy  were  get- 
ting ready  to  sally  out  into  the  plain  from  the 
city,  and  give  them  battle.  It  would  have  been 
foolhardy  to  expose  his  crippled  and  diminished 
force  to  such  superior  numbers,  and  he  therefore 
prudently  resolved  on  a  retreat  Point  aux  Trem- 
bles was  some  twenty  miles  above,  and  thither 
he  set  out  on  the  instant  At  that  place  he 
intended  to  await  the  approach  of  the  troops  un- 
der General  Montgomery,  from  Montreal. 

Arnold  reached  Aux  Trembles  with  a  few  more 
men  than  half  the  number  he  led  out  across  the 
wilderness  from  Cambridge.  They  numbered  in 
all  six  hundred  and  seventy-five.  He  arrived 


GOING   AGAINST   QUEBEC.  89 

only  to  learn  that  Carleton  had  just  left  the  place 
before  him,  and  even  then  he  could  distinctly 
hear  the  sound  of  the  cannon  that  were  firing  at 
Quebec  in  honor  of  his  arrival  at  that  city.  Ar- 
nold did  not  delay  an  hour  in  sending  to  Montreal 
to  General  Montgomery  and  informing  him  of 
the  sad  condition  of  his  troops.  Clothing  and 
provisions  were  very  soon  sent  down  to  them  in 
response  to  Arnold's  statement,  and  thus  they 
were  made  more  comfortable. 

Above  Quebec,  all  Canada  was  in  possession, 
at  the  time,  of  the  Americans ;  they  had  control 
of  the  river  St.  Lawrence,  and  of  every  post  of 
any  importance ;  nothing  remained  for  them  to 
take  but  the  powerful  capital  itself,  and  that  was 
the  sole  object  of  this  expedition.  In  order  to 
accomplish  this  purpose,  therefore,  it  was  neces- 
sary for  Montgomery  to  join  Arnold  with  his 
forces  as  soon  as  he  could. 

He  left  only  a  weak  garrison  at  Montreal  at 
best,  and  hurried  away  with  three  hundred  men, 
three  mortars,  and  artillery ;  these  he  placed  on 
board  the  vessels  that  were  captured  from  the 
enemy  at  Sorel,  and  all  set  sail  down  the  river 
together.  On  the  first  day  of  December,  he 
8* 


90  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

landed  at  Point  aux  Trembles,  and  at  once  took 
command  of  both  forces,  numbering  in  all  only 
nine  hundred  fighting  men.  It  was  with  such  an 
army  that  he  was  to  undertake  to  reduce  a  forti- 
fied town  with  a  garrison  just  twice  as  numerous. 
On  the  next  day  they  set  off  from  this  point  for 
Quebec  again.  A  furious  storm  of  snow  was 
driving  into  their  faces  at  the  time,  at  first  almost 
blinding  them  as  they  marched.  It  soon  began 
to  pile  in  the  roads,  and  to  blow  and  drift  so 
much  as  to  seriously  obstruct  their  progress. 
They  moved  forward,  therefore,  but  slowly,  wad- 
ing as  they  went,  and  finally  came  in  sight  of 
Quebec  on  the  fifth  of  December.  The  houses 
where  the  two  commanders  took  up  their  quarters 
are  still  shown  to  travellers.  The  body  of  the 
Americans  were  encamped  in  a  suburb  of  the 
city,  called  St.  Roche. 

They  did  not  happen  to  know  inside  the  walls 
how  great  was  the  disparity  between  the  two 
forces,  or  the  besiegers  might  not  have  been  left 
unmolested  as  long  as  they  were.  Arnold  wrote 
on  to  Washington,  while  at  Point  aux  Trembles, 
that  it  would  take  fully  twenty-five  hundred  men 
to  storm  Quebec  with  any  hope  of  success ;  and 


GOING  AGAINST  QUEBEC.  91 

still  they  found  it  necessary  to  advance  to  their 
perilous  work  with  but  a  trifle  more  than  a  third 
of  that  number.  Montgomery's  first  device  was, 
what  Arnold  had  vainly  tried  before,  to  send  a 
summons  to  Carleton  to  surrender ;  but  the  Gov- 
ernor refused  to  allow  a  flag  to  come  within  shot 
range  of  the  walls  of  the  city.  But  a  letter  was 
finally  sent  to  Carleton  from  Montgomery  through 
a  citizen,  in  which  he  demanded  of  him  to  give 
up  the  town  without  delay,  or  he  would  make  an 
assault  for  whose  results  he  could  not  become 
responsible.  He  likewise  tried  to  make  Carleton 
think  he  had  a  great  many  more  men  than  he 
had.  But  the  Governor  was  not  so  easily  fright- 
ened. No  doubt  he  believed  the  assailing  force 
of  Americans  was  stronger  than  it  was,  yet  he 
chose  to  take  his  own  course. 

It  still  continued  to  be  a  favorite  idea  of  Mont- 
gomery and  Arnold  that  the  inhabitants  of  the 
city  felt  friendly  towards  them,  and  would  turn 
out  in  their  support  as  soon  as  a  good  chance 
offered ;  but  they  were  afraid  of  the  troops  that 
composed  the  garrison ;  it  was  this  alone  that 
held  them  in  check.  For  three  weeks  almost, 
they  remained  in  their  nresent  position,  trying  in 


92  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

every  way  to  effect  an  entrance  into  the  city.  It 
was  a  curious,  and  a  wretched  picture ;  and  yet 
it  compelled  admiration  for  the  courage  and  pluck 
that  were  displayed  on  every  side.  Here  was  a 
poorly  fed,  poorly  clad,  and  poorly  supplied  army, 
the  mere  remnant  of  what  it  was  when  it  set  out 
on  this  formidable  winter  expedition;  they  had 
no  heavier  ordnance  than  three  mortars  and  a  few 
light  pieces  of  artillery  ;  the  snow  was  falling  on 
their  little  half-protected  encampment  almost  in- 
cessantly ;  their  limbs  were  bitten  with  the  severe 
frosts  almost  every  night  they  lay  down  to  their 
broken  slumbers ;  the  leader  himself  was  nearly 
ready  to  despair,  in  the  face  of  so  many  obstacles 
both  of  man  and  of  nature ;  and  a  gradual  feel- 
ing of  disappointment  and  depression  seemed 
likely  to  take  possession  of  the  sinking  hearts  of 
the  whole. 

Nothing  less  than  the  lofty  courage  of  such  a 
nature  as  Montgomery's  could  have  kept  alive  the 
spirits  of  the  troops  as  long  as  it  did ;  though  a 
native  of  Ireland  himself,  and  still  a  young  man, 
he  nevertheless  loved  his  adopted  country  with 
all  the  ardor  of  a  son.  Orators  like  Chatham, 
Burke,  and  and  BarrS  thought  his  name  worthy 


GOING  AGAINST  QUEBEC.  93 

of  their  splendid  eulogies  on  the  floor  of  the 
British  Parliament ;  and  even  Lord  North,  the 
Prime  Minister  of  King  George  in  the  Revolu- 
tion, exclaimed  in  regard  to  him,  after  conceding 

\ 

his  worth  and  manliness,  —  "Curses  on  his  vir- 
tues, —  they  have  undone  his  country !  "  He  had 
taken  the  general  command  in  consequence  of  the 
illness  of  Schuyler,  and  received  the  commission 
of  a  major-general  just  before  reaching  Quebec, 
and  while  on  his  way  to  assail  that  town.  But 
alas  for  the  land  of  his  adoption !  it  was  to  be  but 
a  very  brief  time  that  he  would  wear  the  honors 
with  which  she  sought  to  reward  him. 

This  brave  young  officer  could  not  help  reflect- 
ing what  a  blow  it  would  be  to  the  hopes  of  the 
patriots  of  America,  if  he  should  retreat  or  even 
falter  now;  and  he  therefore  nerved  himself  to 
make  the  greater  effort  where  they  were.  He 
thought  that  outright  death  was  easier  to  be  con- 
templated than  retreat.  As  long  as  the  Governor 
refused  to  treat  with  him,  he  determined  to  treat 
with  the  Governor ;  and  so  he  began  to  throw 
bombs  from  the  mortars  over  the  walls  among 
the  houses  of  the  city,  This  he  found  produced 
no  such  effect  as  he  had  reckoned  on ;  it  did,  not 


94  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

seem  to  harass  the  enemy  in  the  least.  Accor- 
dingly it  occurred  to  him  to  try  another  plan,  and 
make  a  more  forcible  demonstration. 

The  men  set  to  work  with  earnestness,  and 
soon  collected  heaps  of  snow  and  ice  at  a  point 
within  seven  hundred  yards  of  the  walls,  upon 
which  he  mounted  a  battery  of  six  guns;  and 
then  he  opened  with  all  his  force  against  the 
entrenched  enemy.  But  he  might  as  well  have 
played  against  the  walls  with  pop-guns.  He 
made  no  impression  whatever.  Next,  the  two 
armies  had  skirmishes  with  each  other  in  the 
suburbs  of  the  city ;  in  which  there  were  a  few 
men  killed,  and  some  houses  were  burned. 

Thus  three  weeks  spoken  of  slipped  away,  and 
nothing  was  effected.  The  term  for  which  many 
of  the  companies  had  enlisted  was  now  expiring, 
and  they  began  to  think  longingly  of  the  quiet 
and  secure  comforts  of  home.  Mutiny  likewise 
began  to  show  itself  in  various  forms.  That  ter- 
rible visitor  in  the  camp,  the  small-pox,  also  made 
its  appearance  among  the  troops,  and  the  pros- 
pect was,  certainly,  of  the  entire  dissolution  and 
ruin  of  the  army.  The  mutinous  disposition  was 
brought  on  by  the  breaking  out  of  a  fierce  quar- 


GOING  AGAINST  QUEBEC.         95 

rel  between  Arnold  and  one  of  his  captains  ;  the 
captains  of  two  other  companies  took  sides 
against  Arnold,  and  for  a  time  the  danger  of  a 
general  breaking  up  was  imminent.  But  it  was 
soon  laid  at  rest  by  the  discrimination  and 
firmness  of  Montgomery,  who  ascertained  where 
the  trouble  arose,  and  took  speedy  and  decided 
means  to  reduce  the  rebellious  troops  to  subordi- 
nation again. 

The  quarrel,  it  appears,  grew  out  of  an  old 
difficulty  between  Arnold  and  a  Major  Brown  at 
Ticonderoga ;  Brown  improved  the  occasion  to 
widen  the  breach  between  Arnold  and  his  cap- 
tain, and  managed  to  draw  still  other  companies 
into  it,  so  that  he  might  get  them  detached  from 
Col.  Arnold's  command,  and  joined  to  his  own. 
The  matter  had  gone  so  far  that  they  refused  to 
serve  unless  they  could  be  so  transferred,  accord- 
ing to  Major  Brown's  purposes. 

In  the  midst  of  thickening  dangers  like  these, 
with  foes  within  as  well  as  without,  a  council  of 
war  was  called  in  order  to  determine  what  was 
best  to  be  done.  It  was  resolved  to  make  a 
decided  movement  at  once  and  try  and  carry 
the  works  by  assault.  The  town  was  to  be 


96  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

attacked  at  different  points  at  the  same  time,  it 
being  calculated  that  by  thus  dividing  the  effec- 
tive garrison,  success  would  be  more  sure.  The 
army  was  divided  into  two  bodies ;  Arnold  was 
to  lead  his  around  by  the  way  of  the  suburb 
named  St.  Roche,  and  Montgomery  was  to  fol- 
low the  bank  of  the  river  with  his,  and  p;t>- 
around  by  the  base  of  Cape  Diamond. 

The  troops  were  ordered  to  parade  at  two 
o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  last  day  in  the 
year.  They  were  all  promptly  on  the  ground. 
The  real  plan  was  then  made  known.  The  fir^t 
and  second  divisions  were  to  attack  the  lower 
town  on  opposite  sides  at  the  same  time  ;  while 
a  third  was  to  make  a  feigned  attack  upon  the 
upper  town  from  the  Plains  of  Abraham. 

Montgomery  led  his  men  down  from  these 
plains  to  Wolfe's  Cove,  to  the  south  of  the  city, 
and  at  once  began  a  march  towards  the  lower 
town,  by  the  road  that  ran  along  the  margin  of 
the  river,  and  under  the  frowning  front  of  Cape 
Diamond.  Arnold  led  on  his  division  towards 
the  north  side  of  the  town,  and  both  parties  were 
at  length  to  meet,  and  force  Prescott  Gate. 

Jt  was  snowing  furiously  at  the  time  they  set 


GOING   AGAINST   QUEBEC.  97 

/ 

out,  and  it  was  so  dark  as  to  render  it  difficult  for 
them  to  find  their  way.  At  the  foot  of  the  high 
precipice  called  Cape  Diamond,  was  a  strong 
block-house,  forty  or  fifty  feet  square,  which 
only  left  a  cart-path,  on  each  side,  for  the  travel 
along  the  road ;  and  within  this  block-house  was 
mounted  a  battery  of  three-pounders,  charged 
with  grape  and  canister  shot,  which  raked  the 
entire  avenue.  In  the  face  of  this  appalling 
obstacle  went  Montgomery  with  his  division,  the 
precipice  on  the  one  side,  and  the  river  on  the 
other.  He  stopped  within  fifty  yards  of  the 
block-house  to  look  about  him.  He  listened  in- 
tently. All  was  profound  silence.  Not  a  sound 
was  to  be  heard  within  the  building,  and  they 
concluded  that  the  men  who  served  the  guns 
must  have  fallen  asleep  on  their  watch.  Mont- 
gomery stepped  forth  in  the  gray  of  this  winter's 
morning,  with  the  snow  sifting  down  all  around 
them,  and  cried  out,  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Men  of 
New  York !  you  will  not  fear  to  follow  where 
your  General  leads !  march  on ! "  —  and  at  once 
rushed  forward  to  charge  the  battery. 

But  they  had  sadly  miscalculated.     The  artil- 
lerymen were  at  their  posts  all  the  while,  with 
9 


98  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

lighted  matches  in  their  hands ;  and,  being  able 
to  distinguish  the  movements  of  the  Americans, 
by  the  dim  morning  light,  applied  the  matches  as 
soon  as  they  came  within  forty  paces.  The  effect 
was  terrible.  General  Montgomery  fell  dead  at 
the  first  fire,  and  both  of  his  aids  and  several 
soldiers  were  slain  with  him. 

The  men  saw  they  had  lost  their  leader,  and  a 
panic  instantly  seized  them;  they  turned  and  fled 
at  the  top  of  their  speed.  But  the  cannon  kept 
up  their  thunderous  roar  in  the  gorge,  and  the 
grape  and  cannister  rattled  like  hail  all  up  and 
down  the  deserted  road.  And  this  aimless  fire 
was  continued  for  the  space  of  ten  minutes,  with 
no  enemy  to  slaughter.  After  Montgomery  fell, 
his  whole  division  retreated  to  Wolfe's  Cove, 
where  they  rested,  without  any  further  disposition 
to  fight  an  enemy  so  strongly  entrenched.  No 
more  attempts  were  made  to  join  Col.  Arnold 
on  the  other  side  of  the  town,  but  they  left  him 
to  fight  his  own  way  through  as  well  as  he  could. 

He  was  even  then  advancing,  at  the  top  of  his 
energy.  The  fallen  snow  had  drifted  and  banked 
up  xm  his  route  along  the  St.  Charles,  much  more 
formidably  than  it  had  where  Montgomery  led 


GOING    AGAINST    QUEBEC.  90 

his  division,  by  the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence. 
At  length,  after  pushing  through  the  drifts  iill 
their  strength  was  well  nigh  spent,  they  came  to 
a  narrow  street  named  Sault  cm  Matelot,  where 
was  a  battery  of  two  guns,  mounted  just  under 
a  high  rock  that  jutted  over  the  way.  Arnold 
here  displayed  his  customary  intrepidity.  It  was 
never  in  him  to  hesitate  or  be  behind  the  rest;  he 
took  the  lead  in  an  instant,  and  shouted  to  his 
men  to  come  on.  He  put  himself  at  the  head  of 
Lamb's  artillery,  and  advanced  to  the  barrier, 
charging  upon  it  with  great  impetuosity.  The 
guns  of  the  battery  belched  forth  their  fire,  and 
the  musketry  mingled  in  their  sharp  report  with 
the  deeper  roar  of  the  cannon.  A  ball  struck 
Arnold  in  the  leg  below  the  knee,  and  shattered 
the  limb.  He  was  taken  up  by  his  comrades  and 
carried  off  to  the  general  hospital,  where  he 
learned  for  the  first  time  of  the  death  of  his 
commander,  General  Montgomery,  which  filled 
him  with  dismay. 

Daniel  Morgan,  the  famous  rifleman,  then  took 
the  command,  and  held  the  men  hard  at  the  fight 
amid  the  rain  of  balls  and  shot,  for  a  full  hour ; 
and  they  finally  carried  this  defence  by  their 


100  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

persistency,  and  the  unerring  aim  of  the  body 
of  riflemen.  Nothing  could  stand  against  ihr 
deadly  skill  of  their  marksmanship.  Having  car- 
ried this,  they  rushed  on  to  the  second  barrier, 
which  commanded  two  streets  at  once  ;  and  here 
they  fought  with  an  unsurpassed  courage,  that 
amounted  even  to  ferocity,  for  the  space  of  three 
hours.  Numbers  were  killed,  on  both  sides,  and 
more  were  wounded.  The  American  party  were 
forced  to  take  shelter  in  the  houses  on  each  side 
pf  the  street  They  were  still  exposed,  however, 
to  the  enemy  in  houses  near  by,  as  well  as  from 
the  city  walls  above  their  heads.  Capt.  Lamb, 
of  the  artillery,  had  his  jaw  partially  carried  away 
by  a  grape-shot,  and  was  removed  from  the  field 
soon  after. 

The  assailants  took  the  barrier  at  last,  and 
were  on  the  point  of  making  a  final  desperate 
charge  on  the  town,  when  Gov.  Carleton  sent  out 
a  force  through  Palace  Gate,  to  attack  them  in 
the  rear.  The  news  of  Montgomery's  death  had 
been  carried  to  him,  and  he  took  fresh  courage, 
Capt,  Dearborne  had  already  been  stationed  near 
Palace  Gate,  to  guard  against  surprises ;  and 
suddenly  the  two  ponderous  halves  of  it  flew 
9* 


GOING  AGAINST  QUEBEC.          101 

open,  and  out  poured  a  detachment  of  troops,  in 
full  force,  upon  him.  He  was  so  taken  by  sur- 
prise that  he  could  not  make  any  defence,  and 
his  party  were  obliged  to  surrender  at  discretion. 
Morgan  was  driving  on,  in  another  direction, 
into  the  town,  at  the  moment  he  got  the  news  of 
the  death  of  Montgomery,  the  capture  of  Dear- 
borne's  party,  and  the  movement  to  his  rear.  He 
was  thunderstruck.  Thus  he  found  himself 
almost  entirely  surrounded,  with  no  resources  at 
his  call,  and  no  place  of  safety  to  fall  back  upon. 
There  was  nothing  left  them  but  to  surrender, 
and  that  unpleasant  step  was  instantly  taken. 
In  all  their  prisoners,  they  counted  four  hundred 
and  fifty-six.  They  were  confined  in  a  seminary 
within  the  city  walls.  A  part  of  the  division, 
however,  had  retreated,  leaving  a  field-piece  and 
some  mortars  behind  them.  The  killed  and 
wounded  of  the  Americans  numbered  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty ;  the  loss  of  the  British  was  only 
about  twenty.  Gov.  Carleton  treated  his  pris- 
oners with  a  kindness  of  which  they  ever  after- 
wards spoke  with  gratitude.  Major  Meigs  was 
sent  out  into  the  American  camp  to  procure  the 
clothing  and  baggage  of  the  prisoners,  which  was 
furnished  them  for  their  comfort. 


102  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

Search  was  made  for  the  bodies  of  those  who 
fell  fighting  with  Montgomery,  as  soon  as  the 
battles  were  over;  and,  deeply  buried  in  (he  snow, 
were  found  thirteen  men,  including  the  body  of 
Montgomery  himself.  Carleton  for  a  long  time 
refused  to  believe  that  Montgomery  had  fallen  ; 
but  his  corpse  was  recognized  by  a  captured  field- 
officer,  who  stood  there  in  the  guard-house  in  the 
presence  of  all,  and,  with  tears  running  down  his 
cheeks,  delivered  a  pathetic  funeral  oration  over 
his  cold  remains.  The  lieutenant  governor, 
Cramahe,  took  charge  of  the  body,  and  had  it 
buried  within  a  wall  that  enclosed  a  powder 
magazine,  the  better  for  its  safety.  General 
Montgomery  had  a  watch  in  his  pocket  which 
his  wife  wanted  exceedingly ;  she  sent  word  to 
that  effect  to  Arnold,  and  he  offered  Governor 
Carleton  almost  any  sum  he  chose  to  ask  for  it; 
Carleton  at  once  sent  the  watch  to  Arnold,  refus- 
ing to  receive  anything  in  return.  The  body  of 
Montgomery  was  disinterred  in  June,  1818,  and 
buried  at  the  foot  of  the  monument  erected  to 
the  hero's  memory  in  St.  Paul's  churchyard,  New 
York,  by  direction  of  Congress. 

After  his  first  burial  in    Quebec,  one  of  the 


GOING   AGAINST   QUEBEC.  103 

English  officers  wore  his  sword  in  his  own  belt ; 
but  the  American  prisoners  were  so  affected  at 
the  sight  of  it,  that  he  instantly  laid  it  aside.  It 
was  the  same  officer  who  identified  the  gen- 
eral's remains,  when  they  were  removed  in  1818. 
When  Montgomery  was  ready  to  set  out  and  join 
Schuyler  on  this  northern  expedition,  he  was  liv- 
ing at  Rhinebeck,  on  the  Hudson  ;  his  brother-in- 
law  was  walking  over  the  grounds  with  him  a 
day  or  two  before  he  left  home,  and  the  young 
patriot  suddenly  stopped  and  stuck  a  willow  twig 
into  the  ground,  saying,  as  he  did  so,  —  "Peter, 
let  that  grow  to  remember  me  by."  It  is  now  a 
noble  tree,  growing  in  the  spot  where  he  stuck 
the  twig,  with  a  trunk  fully  ten  feet  in  circum- 
ference. 

Arnold  at  once  took  command  of  the  remnant 
of  the  little  army,  which  now  numbered  only 
eight  hundred  men.  The  moment  Congress 
heard  the  news  of  this  gallant  storming  of  Que- 
bec, they  made  Arnold  a  brigadier-general,  as  a 
token  of  their  appreciation  of  his  skill  and  bra- 
very. He  had  well  earned  so  significant  a  com- 
pliment. They  likewise  reinforced  him  with 
more  troops,  taken  from  New  Hampshire,  Ver- 


104  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

mont,  and  Massachusetts  ;  and  these  new  troops 
reached  Quebec  only  by  walking  on  snow-shoes 
and  carrying  their  own  provisions. 

Arnold  retired  about  three  miles  from  the  town, 
and  began  to  entrench  himself,  as  if  he  were 
seriously  blockading  the  city.  He  certainly  did 
cut  oft  supplies  from  the  garrison  and  the  inhab- 
itants, but  Carleton  was  sure  of  receiving  rein- 
forcements from  England  as  soon  as  the  ice 
started  out  of  the  St  Lawrence  in  the  Spring, 
and  so  waited  quietly  for  that  time  to  come  round. 
General  Wooster,  who  was  a  townsman  of  Arnold 
in  New  Haven,  was  his  superior  officer,  and  had 
command  in  Montreal ;'  on  the  first  of  April  he 
moved  down  to  Arnold's  position  and  super- 
seded him  altogether.  '  What  with  the  added 
force  of  Wooster  and  the  new  troops  from  New 
England,  the  entire  army  now  counted  some 
twenty-eight  hundred  men  ;  of  whom  eight  hund- 
red were  down  with  that  loathsome  and  conta- 
gious disease,  the  small-pox. 

Wooster  began  to  get  ready  to  beleaguer  the 
city  without  delay.  He  erected  one  battery  on 
the  Plains  of  Abraham,  and  another  at  Point 
Levi,  and  opened  a  brisk  cannonade ;  but  it  did 


GOING  AGAINST   QUEBEC.  105 

no  good  whatever.  Arnold's  horse  fell  with  him 
at  this  time,  throwing  himself  upon  his  rider's 
wounded  leg,  —  the  same  that  had  been  twice 
wounded  before ;  Arnold  was  totally  disabled  for 
active  service  for  a  time,  and  procured  leave  from 
Gen.  Wooster  to  retire  to  Montreal.  There  was 
no  good  feeling  wasted  between  these  officers, 
and  each  was  glad  to  turn  his  back  on  the  other. 
It  is  naturally  supposed  that  as  Arnold  generally 
managed  to  have  a  good  number  of  quarrels  on 
his  hands  while  living  in  New  Haven,  he  may 
have  been  in  trouble  with  Wooster  along  will) 
the  rest. 


CHAPTER     V. 

FIRST  NAVAL  COMBAT  WITH  ENGLAND. 

AS  he  held  the  highest  military  rank  of  any 
one  in  the  city,  Gen.  Arnold  of  course 
took  command  of  Montreal,  and  for  six 
wrcks  did  nothing,  because  there  was  nothing 
to  do.  Gov.  Carleton  received  reinforcements 
under  Burgoyne,  and  the  Americans  vacated  the 
neighborhood  of  Quebec  as  fast  as  they  could  go. 
In  the  spring  of  this  year,  1776,  a  party  of 
about  four  hundred  Americans,  under  Col.  Be- 
dell, held  a  post  on  the  northern  side  of  the  St. 
Lawrence  river,  at  a  point  called  the  Cedars.  In 
May,  Capt.  Foster  came  down  the  river  from 
Oswegatchie  (now  Ogdensburgh),  with  a  force  of 
five  hundred  Indians,  under  Joseph  Brant,  and  a 
hundred  and  fifty  English  and  Canadians,  and 
made  for  the  fort.  Bedell  had  gone  down  to 
Montreal  at  the  time,  leaving  the  fort  in  com- 


FIRST   NAVAL   COMBAT?   WITH   ENGLAND.       107 

mand  of  u  Major  Butterfield.  Both  were  arrant 
cowards,  as  the  sequel  shows.  The  instant  the 
British  and  Indian  force  made  its  appearance, 
Butterfield  surrendered ;  he  did  not  even  strike  a 
blow.  Bedell  had  conveniently  kept  himself  out 
of  the  way. 

Arnold  sent  Majoi  Sherburne,  with  one  hund- 
red and  forty  men  to  strengthen  the  garrison  ;  but 
he  arrived  too  late  :  the  post  was  ignominiously 
surrendered  on  the  very  day  he  arrived.  Being 
quite  ignorant  of  this,  however,  he  pushed  on  to- 
wards the  fort,  only  to  find  himself  of  a  sudden 
surprised  by  Indians  and  Canadians,  who  sprang 
out  of  their  ambuscade  upon  him.  The  Ameri- 
cans fought  with  desperation  for  more  than  an 
hour ;  but  in  a  little  time  the  Indians  had  grad- 
ually formed  a  comple  circle  around  them,  and,  a 
signal  being  given,  rushed  upon  them,  man  for 
man,  and  disarmed  them  entirely.  So  enraged 
were  the  savages  at  the  resistance  of  the  little 
party,  they  began  to  butcher  and  hack  them  up 
with  knives  and  tomahawks,  and,  after  stripping 
the  remainder  nearly  naked,  drove  them  off  to 
the  fort,  which,  through  Butterfield's  cowardice, 
had  just  fallen  into  their  hands.  Fifty-two  Amer- 
icans were  thus  massacred. 


108  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

The  blood  of  Gen.  Arnold  boiled  at  (his  intel- 
ligence, and  he  resolved  on  instant  revenge. 
Taking  eight  hundred  men,  he  hurried  to  St. 
Anne's,  on  the  western  end  of  the  island.  The 
very  moment  he  arrived,  he  happened  to  descry 
the  enemy  taking  their  prisoners  from  an  island 
about  three  miles  off,  and  carrying  them  across  to 
the  main  land  opposite.  His  boats  had  not  yet 
come  round  as  expected,  and  he  could  therefore 
do  nothing.  A  party  of  friendly  Caughnawaga 
Indians  returned  while  he  was  idly  waiting, 
whom  he  had  sent  over  in  the  morning  to  de- 
mand the  surrender  of  the  prisoners  from  the 
hostile  Indians ;  they  brought  back  word  that  the 
prisoners  would  not  be  give  up,  and  that  if  Ar- 
nold attempted  their  rescue,  they  should  —  the 
whole  five  hundred  —  be  butchered  without  cere- 
mony. 

But  Arnold  paid  no  heed  to  their  threats.  His 
boats  having  arrived,he  sprang  into  them  with  his 
troops  and  rowed  as  fast  as  they  could  go  to  the 
island  where  the  prisoners  had  been  confined. 
Five  naked  and  nearly  starved  soldiers  had  been 
left  behind  on  this  island,  and  they  were  all. 
The  rest  were  taken  to  Quinze  Chiens,  four  miles 


FIRST  NAVAL   BATTLE   WITH   ENGLAND.         109 

below,  except  two,  who  were  butchered  because 
they  were  too  feeble  to  bear  the  journey.  Arnold 
pushed  on  for  the  latter  place  with  all  despatch. 
They  fired  on  his  little  flotilla  as  he  came  near 
the  land,  and,  it  being  night,  at  last  compelled 
him  to  retreat  to  St.  Anne's  again.  Here  he  held 
a  council  of  war.  At  midnight  a  flag  arrived 
from  the  British  captain,  making  a  proposal  to 
Arnold  that  he  should  sign  an  agreement,  which 
Capt.  Foster  had  already  compelled  his  prisoner, 
Major  Sherburne,  to  sign,  —  providing  that  as 
many  British  soldiers  should  be  delivered  up  as 
there  were  American  prisoners,  and  also  that  the 
latter  should,  as  soon  as  released,  march  off  home 
and  never  take  up  arms  against  the  British  pow- 
er again.  Four  American  captains  were  to  be 
sent  down  to  Quebec,  to  be  held  in  captivity 
there  until  the  agreement  was  fully  carried  out. 
The  British  officer  represented  that  unless  Arnold 
would  consent  to  this  proposal,  which  Major 
Sherburne  had  already  signed,  he  could  not  an- 
swer for  the  consequences ;  the  savages  could  not 
be  restrained  from  putting  all  the  prisoners  to 
death. 

This  was   truly  a  horrible  alternative.     Com- 
10 


110  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

mon  humanity  compelled  Arnold  to  do  all  that 
lay  in  his  power  to  save  his  countrymen  who 
were  in  the  enemy's  hands ;  and  still  he  flatly  re- 
fused to  be  bound  by  any  such  terms  as  that  they 
should  never  again,  if  released,  take  up  arms 
against  the  British.  He  therefore  consented  to 
sign  the  agreement  proposed  by  Capt.  Foster,  but 
refused  his  assent  to  this  clause  of  it.  Foster 
finally  waived  this,  and  the  convention  being  duly 
signed,  the  prisoners  were  released. 

Congress  subsequently  refused  to  be  bound  by 
this  proceeding,  inasmuch  as  it  had  been  forced 
upon  Arnold  by  threats  of  cruelty  towards  the 
five  hundred  prisoners  for  whose  safety  he  was 
chiefly  anxious ;  but  Washington  gave  it  his  sanc- 
tion as  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  American 
forces,  chiefly  because  it  was  consummated 
according  to  military  rules  and  formularies. 
There  was  much  indignation  felt  all  over  the 
country  when  the  facts  came  out ;  and  to  this  day 
the  transaction  remains  a  foul  blot  on  the  military 
honor  of  the  nation  whose  agent  proposed  such 
a  base  and  inhuman  alternative. 

As  soon  as  this  affair  was  over,  Arnold  returned 
with  his  detachment  to  Montreal.  It  was  now 


FIRST   NAVAL    BATTLE    WITH    ENGLAND.         Ill 

dark  and  gloomy  on  every  side.  There  was  a 
great  deal  of  disaffection  in  the  camp,  and  a 
much  stronger  dislike  had  been  conceived  against 
the  Americans  by  the  Canadian  inhabitants. 
The  British  had  just  been  strengthened  by  a  large 
body  of  experienced  troops  from  Europe,  that  had 
fought  their  way  all  over  the  continent,  while  our 
army  was  continually  dwindling  and  tapering 
down,  and  becoming  less  and  less  able  to  make 
an  effectual  resistance  on  Canadian  soil.  The 
small-pox,  too,  had  done  a  terrible  work  with 
them,  and  was  still  active  with  its  ravages. 

Just  at  this  crisis,  a  committee  came  on  from 
Congress,  consisting  of  Franklin,  Carroll,  and 
Chase,  to  see  how  matters  stood,  and  to  make  a 
report  on  the  same.  They  found  that  little  hope 
remained.  There  was  no  further  encouragement 
to  attempt  to  secure  a  foothold  within  the  British 
possessions.  The  Americans  were  driven  out  of 
Quebec,  and  came  up  the  St.  Lawrence  and 
made  a  stand  at  Sorel.  Pursued  thither,  they 
tried  to  maintain  their  ground,  but  vainly,  in  the 
face  of  such  superior  numbers ;  the  encampment 
was  hastily  broken  up,  and  the  entire  force  came 
sailing  down  Lake  Champlain  to  Crown  Point ; 
here  they  were  within  their  own  territory  again. 


112  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

Arnold  remained  at  Montreal,  however,  as  long 
as  it  was  safe,  and  at  the  very  last  moment  hur- 
ried off  for  St  John's,  a  post  on  the  Sorel,  or 
Richelieu  river,  conducting  into  Lake  Champlain. 
General  Sullivan  was  with  him,  and  took  a  lead- 
ing part  in  this  retreat.  Arnold  had  himself  been 
down  to  St  John's  a  couple  of  days  before,  di- 
rected an  encampment  to  be  closed,  and  ordered 
a  vessel  then  on  the  stocks  to  be  taken  in  pieces, 
the  pieces  numbered,  and  the  whole  to  be  sent 
off  to  Crown  Point.  Both  commanders  wished 
to  stand  and  defend  the  fort  at  St.  John's,  but  the 
troops  refused  outright  to  serve  any  longer  in 
Canada ;  nothing,  therefore,  was  left  them  but  to 
embark  in  their  boats,  which  they  did  without 
delay,  and  sailed  up  the  lake  to  Isle  avx  Noix. 
On  the  occasion  of  this  retreat,  Arnold  again 
showed  out  all  his  natural. bravery  and  impetuos- 
ity. After  every  boat  was  loaded  with  troops,  he 
took  Wilkinson,  his  aid,  and  rode  back  two 
miles  to  reconnoitre.  Burgoyne  was  discovered 
with  his  advanced  division,  marching  on  at  a 
rapid  pace.  Arnold  sat  on  his  horse  and  studied 
their  appearance  quite  as  long  as  it  was  safe,  and 
then  rode  back  at  full  speed  to  the  lake.  Their 


FIRST   NAVAL   BATTLE   WITH   ENGLAND.        113 

single  boat  was  waiting  to  receive  them.  They 
stripped  the  horses  of  their  saddles  and  bridles, 
shot  them,  ordered  the  rowers  all  on  board,  and 
then  followed  themselves.  Arnold  was  the  last 
man  to  leave  the  shore,  and  pushed  off  the  boat 
with  his  own  hands  and  jumped  in. 

It  was  sunset  already.  Night  soon  settled 
down  upon  them.  They  plied  their  oars  with 
vigor,  and  before  midnight  overtook  the  main 
body  of  the  army  at  Isle  aux  Noix. 

General  Arnold  next  proceeded  to  Albany, 
where  were  Generals  Schuyler  and  Gates,  the 
latter  having  but  recently  been  invested  by  Con- 
gress with  the  command  of  the  northern  army. 
These  three  officers  having  learned  that  the 
Americans  under  Sullivan  had  left  Isle  aux  Noix 
and  retreated  still  farther  up  the  lake  to  Crown 
Point,  they  all  repaired  to  that  post  with  the 
design  of  arranging  a  regular  system  of  opera- 
tions. Carleton  was  expected  to  be  after  them 
with  a  fleet  every  day.  A  council  of  war  was 
held,  at  which  it  was  determined  to  give  up  the 
idea  of  holding  Crown  Point,  but  to  retreat  fif- 
teen miles  up  the  lake  to  Ticonderoga,  and  there 
make  as  strong  a  defence  as  they  were  able. 
10* 


114  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

Some  of  the  field-officers  protested  against  this 
abandonment  of  so  strong  a  position  as  Crown 
Point,  but  their  opposition  had  no  effect  on  those 
who  had  formed  their  resolve  at  the  council 
board.  Both  Congress  and  Washington  ex- 
pressed their  surprise  that  such  a  step  should  be 
taken,  and  Gates  and  Schuyler  defended  it  in 
letters  which  they  addressed  them  in  explanation. 
It  was  afterwards  acquiesced  in  as  the  wisest 
plan  that  could  at  that  time  have  been  pursued. 
To  have  divided  their  force 'and  tried  to  hold  two 
posts,  would  have  weakened  them  inevitably; 
whereas  to  keep  them  united  in  defence  of  ;i 
single  position,  would  be  the  surest  guaranty  of 
their  success  in  staying  the  further  progress  of 
the  enemy. 

While  the  army  was  at  Ticonderoga,  a  serious 
difficulty  arose  in  relation  to  certain  goods  Arnold 
seized  from  Montreal  merchants,  which  he  took 
for  the  use  of  his  soldiers.  He  was  careful  to 
give  the  merchants  certificates  for  the  value  of 
their  property,  and  pledged  himself  that  all  de- 
mands thus  certified  by  him  would  be  paid  by 
the  United  States.  Many  parcels,  ho\vever,  were 
carried  off  in  the  haste  and  confusion  of  leaving, 


FIRST   NAVAL   BATTLE   WITH   ENGLAND.        115 

which  were  not  thus  certified,  and  bore  no  other 
proof  of  ownership  than  the  merchant's  name 
marked  on  the  parcel.  Col.  Hazen  was  under 
Arnold  at  the  time,  and  to  his  care  he  entrusted 
the  packages  at  Chambly,  directing  them  to  be 
despatched  down  the  Sorel  and  the  lake  to  Ti- 
conderoga.  Hazen  nursed  a  hostility  to  Arnold, 
and  so  paid  but  a  careless  attention  to  his  instruc- 
tions ;  he  first  suffered  the  goods  to  lie  out  on 
the  river  bank  exposed  to  the  weather  till  many 
of  them  were  spoiled  in  consequence,  and  after- 
wards gave  them  such  slight  attention  that  many 
of  the  packages  were  broken  open  and  rifled  by 
soldiers. 

The  owners  followed  their  goods  down  even  to 
Crown  Point,  and  there  they  presented  their 
claims  for  what  had  been  taken  from  them.  They 
accused  Arnold,  and  Arnold  accused  Hazen ;  and 
the  matter  came  to  such  a  pass  that  the  latter 
was  finally  triad  for  disobeying  the  orders  of  his 
superior  officer.  One  of  Arnold's  witnesses  on 
the  trial  was  a  Major  Scott ;  but  the  court  set  him 
aside  because  he  was  an  interested  party.  At 
this  Arnold  flew.  He  sent  the  court  a  letter,  in 
which  he  used  language  such  as  no  military  court 
was  ever  known  to  tolerate, 


116  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

The  court  insisted  that  he  should  forthwith 
apologize  for  his  insult ;  but  he  flatly  refused ; 
and  not  only  refused,  but  told  them  he  was  qqite 
ready  to  give  each  and  every  one  of  them  satis- 
faction whenever  they  wished ;  in  other  words,  he 
sent  them  what  might  be  considered  a  challenge. 
This  was  out  of  all  sort  of  rule,  and  without  pre- 
cedent; they  appealed  to  the  commander,  Gen- 
eral Gates,  and  he  was  thrown  into  a  quandary. 
Arnold  stood  high  with  him  then,  and  he  knew 
too  well  what  the  services  of  such  a  man  were 
worth  in  the  army.  He  likewise  had  it  in  his 
mind  to  give  Arnold  the  command  of  the  fleet  of 
vessels  which  was  in  course  of  preparation  to 
meet  the  enemy,  now  advancing  up  the  lake. 

In  order,  therefore,  to  solve  the  problem  and 
get  himself  out  of  his  perplexity,  he  suffered  the 
matter  to  pass  unheeded,  and  gave  orders  to  dis- 
solve the  court.  He  afterwards  wrote  to  Con- 
gress, explaining  his  conduct,  saying  that  he  as- 
sumed all  the  responsibility  himself,  and  that 
"  the  United  States  must  not  be  deprived  of  that 
excellent  officer's  (Arnold's)  services  at  this  im- 
portant moment."  The  court,  however,  acquitted 
Hazen,  which  was  about  the  same  thing  as  con- 


FIRST   NAVAL    BATTLE    WITH   ENGLAND.         117 

dernning  Arnold.  But  the  latter  was  in  no  sense 
guilty  of  any  breach  of  honor,  much  less  of  any 
criminal  intent  in  the  transaction ;  his  letters  to 
Schuyler  at  the  time  he  took  the  goods,  explain- 
ing that  he  was  directed  by  the  Congressional 
commissioners  to  take  them,  —  and  afterwards  to 
Sullivan,  in  which  he  spoke  of  the  way  Hazen 
had  treated  the  same,  abundantly  show  this,  and 
are  to  be  set  down  as  his  effective  vindication. 
It  is  not  at  all  likely,  from  what  evidence  can  be 
obtained,  that  he  ever  intended  to  carry  valuable 
articles  of  merchandise  out  of  Canada  for  the 
sake  of  enriching  himself. 

Another  difficulty  arose  at  this  time  between 
Arnold  and  Major  Brown,  growing  out  of  an  old 
feud  at  Ticonderoga,  when  both  were  there  before. 
While  in  Canada,  Arnold  sent  on  letters  to  Con- 
gress accusing  Brown  of  the  same  crime  which 
had  just  been  imputed  to  himself;  Brown  heard 
of  it,  and  demanded  an  investigation,  but  Arnold 
managed,  as  long  as  they  were  in  Canada,  to 
have  it  evaded.  Now  they  were  both  at  Ticon- 
deroga, Brown  again  demanded  a  trial,  and  Con- 
gress issued  express  orders  to  have  a  court  of 
inquiry  held  upon  the  matter  •  but  Gates  put  him 


118  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

off  just  as  he  had  done  in  the  case  of  the  court 
martial  on  Hazen.  Arnold  was  his  particular 
pet,  and  he  protected  him  openly  on  all  occasions. 

Gates  now  concerted  active  measures  to  meet 
the  enemy  whenever  they  might  choose  to  ap- 
proach. Materials  for  building  craft  of  any  kind 
were  very  scarce  in  the  vicinity,  and  as  for  obtain- 
ing carpenters  and  workmen,  it  was  almost  an 
impossibility.  For  the  latter,  they  were  obliged 
to  send  to  the  sea-ports.  Yet,  in  spite  of  all 
obstacles,  between  June  and  August  they  had 
worked  with  so  much  industry  and  xcal,  that 
quite  "a  little  squadron  of  vessels  had  been  built 
and  equipped,  consisting  of  a  sloop  with  twelve 
^nns,  three  schooners,  one  of  which  carried  as 
many  guns  also,  and  the  others  eight,  and  five 
gondolas,  with  three  guns  each ;  making,  in  all,  a 
floating  armament  of  fifty  five  guns. 

Arnold  was  placed  in  command  of  the  whole, 
as  much  on  account  of  his  experience  on  the 
water  as  his  title  and  distinguished  services.  It 
was  late  in  August  when  he  set  sail  down  the 
lake  from  Ticonderoga,  with  directions  from 
Gates  not  to  pass  beyond  Isle  aux  Teles,  or  the 
Canada  line,  near  which  Rouse's  Point  now  is-' 


FIRST   NAVAL   BATTLE   WITH   ENGLAND.        119 

he  was  also  ordered  to  act  only  in  defence  of  his 
own  force,  and  to  strive  to  check  the  enemy, 
rather  than  attack  them.  He  went  down  the 
lake  as  far  as  Windmill  Point,  four  miles  from 
Isle  aux  Tetes,  and  there  halted  to  reconnoitre. 

He  found  that  island  covered  with  both  British 
and  Indians,  and  accordingly  drew  off  some  ten 
miles  further  back,  to  Isle  La  Motte.  His  squad- 
ron was  increased  considerably  here,  so  that  it 
now  numbered  two  sloops,  three  schooners,  three 
galleys,  eight  gondolas,  and  twenty-one  gun- 
boats. 

Governor  Carleton  had  heard  of  the  activity 
of  the  Americans  at  Ticonderoga,  and  began  to 
prepare  for  them  in  season ;  so  that,  by  this 
time,  he  had  collected  a  large  number  of  vessels, 
which  were  built  at  St.  John's  by  the  seven  hun- 
dred men  he  had  sent  forward  from  Quebec  for 
that  purpose.  Arnold  knew  nothing  of  the  ex- 
tent of  his  force,  and  therefore  deemed  it  prudent 
to  withdraw  to  a  point  where  he  might  hope  for 
some  advantage.  So  he  retreated  still  further, 
and  chose  his  position  between  Valcour  Island 
and  the  western  shore  of  the  lake,  which  was 
nothing  more  than  a  narrow  channel. 


120  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

Carleton  appeared  off  Cumberland  Head  with 
his  fleet,  at  an  early  hour  on  the  morning  of  the 
llth  of  October.  He  had  about  thirty  strong 
and  well-built  vessels  and  boats,  including  one 
ship  with  three  masts,  a  flat-bottomed  boat  car- 
rying heavy  guns,  which  was  called  the  Thun- 
derer, and  twenty-four  gun-boats,  each  provided 
with  a  piece  of  ordnance ;  forty  boats,  laden  with 
provisions,  also  accompanied  the  fleet.  On  they 
came  in  proud  array  up  the  lake,  steering  to  the 
east  of  Valcour  Island,  so  as  to  reach  its  south- 
ern point,  and  cut  off  Arnold's  retreat  by  the 
channel.  Capt.  Pringle  was  commodore  of  the 
fleet,  and  his  flag-ship  was  named  the  Inflexible. 
Edward  Pellew  served  under  him,  afterwards 
Admiral  Viscount  Exmouth,  one  of  the  most 
noted  men  in  the  British  navy. 

At  precisely  twelve  o'clock,  the  battle  began. 
The  British  opened  fire  on  the  schooner  Royal 
Savage  and  the  three  galleys  which  Arnold  had 
ordered  to  advance  to  meet  them.  The  schooner 
was  badly  managed,  and  soon  ran  aground.  She 
was  burned,  but  her  crew  contrived  to  effect  their 
escape. 

An  hour  later,  the  battle  was  at  its  height,  and 


FIRST   NAVAL   liATTLK   WITH   ENGLAND.        121 

every  one  of  the  British  vessels,  except  the  ship 
and  schooner,  was  closely  engaged  with  the 
American  force.  The  American  vessels  fared 
badly  enough.  The  Congress,  on  board  which 
Arnold  was,  was  hulled  a  dozen  times ;  received 
seven  shots  between  wind  and  water;  had  her 
mainmast  shivered  in  two  places,  the  rigging  torn 
and  tattered,  and  lost  a  great  number  of  her 
crew.  This  brisk  style  of  cannonading  with 
grape  and  round  shot  was  kept  up  for  nearly  five 
hours,  without  cessation.  The  men  became  so 
scarce  on  board  the  Congress,  after  a  time,  that 
there  were  not  enough  to  work  the  guns,  and 
Arnold  sprang  to,  and  labored  with  all  his  zeal, 
pointing  his  guns  at  the  enemy  with  his  own 
hands.  The  British  likewise  sent  a  body  of  In- 
dians ashore  on  the  island,  while  the  conflict  was 
raging,  and  these  kept  up  the  firing  with  muskets 
from  their  new  position,  but  fortunately  to  little 
purpose.  During  the  time  the  battle  was  raging 
Arnold's  little  fleet  had  lost  in  all,  counting  the 
killed  and  wounded,  about  sixty  men.  The  sol- 
emn shadows  of  night  curtained  the  sanguinary 
scene  at  last,  and  the  combatants  were  compelled 
to  separate,  neither  side  being  able  to  claim  a 
11 


122  LENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

victory.  The  two  fleets,  however,  anchored  but 
a  few  hundred  yards  from  each  other. 

So  active  a  spirit  as  that  of  Arnold  would  not 
permit  slumber  to  come  near  his  eyelids  on  such 
a  night.  He  hastily  called  a  council  of  his  offi- 
cers, and  it  was  resolved  by  them  to  try  and  make 
their  way  back  to  Crown  Point  before  morning. 
It  was  a  hazardous  undertaking  —  perhaps  hardly 
a  possible  one.  Yet  it  looked  as  if  little  else  now 
was  left  them.  The  enemy  were  vastly  their 
superior,  both  in  the  number  of  their  vessels  and 
their  men,  and  would  be  more  than  likely,  if  they 
came  to  another  engagement,  to  sink  them,  in 
their  present  shattered  condition,  without  any 
trouble. 

It  was  to  guard  against  just  such  a  step  that 
the  British  commander  stretched  his  vessels  in  a 
line,  across  from  the  island  to  the  mainland  on 
the  western  side,  thinking  to  hem  them  in.  For- 
tunately, a  stiff  wind  was  blowing  from  the  north 
at  the  time,  and  continued  to  blow  through  the 
night.  It  looked  like  a  direct  interposition  of 
Providence,  for  their  escape.  The  moon  was  new, 
and  threw  down  no  light  upon  the  lake  to  betray 
them ;  dark  and  angry  clouds,  too,  had  piled  up 


FIRST   NAVAL   EATTLti    WITH   ENGLAND.        123 

in  the  sky,  overshadowing  the  whole  scene  with 
their  dense  gloom. 

In  the  dark,  and  with  all  the  silence  and 
secrecy  possible,  Arnold  weighed  anchor  and  set 
sail  at  about  ten  o'clock.  The  north  wind,  which 
was  still  blowing  strongly,  filled  their  canvas,  and 
wafted  them  all  safe  and  sound  through  the 
enemy's  lines.  The  latter  did  not  know  a  whis- 
per of  it  all,  until  they  descried  the  few  lagging 
boats  of  the  American  fleet  a  long  way  out  of 
their  reach,  in  the  early  morning.  The  watch  on 
deck  had  looked  in  vain  to  find  them  where  they 
lay  anchored  at  sunset,  and  only  awoke  to  their 
surprise  on  turning  about  and  seeing  them  far 
away  in  their  rear !  So  bold  a  movement  was 
calculated  to  set  all  ordinary  feelings  of  astonish- 
ment at  fault. 

The  shattered  little  American  fleet  made  good 
its  retreat  for  about  ten  miles,  to  Schuyler's  Island, 
where  they  set  to  work  to  repair  damages  with 
all  despatch.  Their  sails  were  almost  entirely 
gone,  and  the  leaks  in  the  vessels  became  danger- 
ous. But  the  moment  the  British  commander 
found  how  skilfully  his  enemy  had  escaped  him, 
he  ordered  instant  pursuit.  His  entire  fleet 


124  BENEDICT    AliNOLD. 

started  off  accordingly.  Meantime  Arnold  had 
set  sail  again  from  Schuyler's  Island,  intending 
to  place  a  still  greater  distance  between  himself 
and  his  pursuers.  Towards  evening  the  wind 
changed  again,  blowing  this  time  from  the  south, 
and,  of  course,  directly  in  the  face  of  the  enemy. 
But  it  also  retarded  the  advance  of  the  Ameri- 
cans as  much. 

The  next  day  was  the  13th.  At  an  early  hour 
of  the  morning,  the  British  vessels  were  descried 
advancing,  and  it  was  apparent  they  were  now 
gaining  on  the  Americans  rapidly.  Arnold  still 
lingered  behind  with  his  new  flag-ship,  the  Con- 
gress, together  with  the  Washington  and  four 
gondolas,  unable,  on  account  of  his  crippled  con- 
dition, to  keep  up  with  the  body  of  his  fleet. 
The  British  vessels  continued  to  gain  upon  him, 
in  spite  of  all  he  could  do.  Very  soon  three  of 
them  came  up  alongside ;  the  Carleton,  the  In- 
flexible, and  the  Maria.  Gaining  a  proper  posi- 
tion, they  applied  the  matches,  and  poured  in 
upon  his  already  disabled  craft  a  fire  so  galling 
and  destructive  that  the  Washington  was  com- 
pelled to  strike  her  colors,  and  the  Captain,  with 
all  his  crew,  surrendered  themselves  prisoners. 


FIRST  NAVAL  BATTLE   WITH   ENGLAND.        125 

Then  they  turned  their  whole  energies  upon 
the  Congress,  on  board  which  was  General  Ar- 
nold. For  four  long  hours  the  battle  raged  with 
great  violence.  Gun  answered  gun  in  quick  suc- 
cession. The  British  fleet  was  manned  by  a 
disciplined  force,  and  they  worked  their  arma- 
ments with  unerring  precision  and  destructive 
effect.  Such  odds  were  tremendous  for  a  single 
vessel,  like  that  which  Arnold  commanded,  to 
encounter ;  yet  he  unflinchingly  held  his  ground 
for  all  this  time,  and  fought  with  an  obstinate 
courage  that  sheds  a  lustre  on  his  name. 

His  vessel  was  already  reduced  nearly  to  a 
wreck,  and  there  were  seven  of  the  enemy's  sail 
fast  crowding  upon  him  and  hemming  him  in. 
But  one  way  of  safety  lay  open  to  him,  and  that 
was  to  run  his  crippled  galley  and  the  four  gon- 
dolas ashore.  Quick  as  the  thought  itself,  his 
resolution  was  taken.  The  vessels  were  all 
grounded,  high  and  dry,  on  the  bank  of  a  small 
creek  on  the  east  side  of  the  lake,  about  ten 
miles  distant  from  Crown  Point.  They  were 
every  one  fired  by  their  crews  as  they  deserted 
them,  and  the  latter  jumped  into  the  water  and 
waded  to  land,  carrying  their  muskets  in  their 
11* 


126  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

hands.  Arnold  immediately  drew  them  up  ou 
the  beach  in  martial  order,  so  as  to  prevent  par- 
ties of  the  enemy  from  coming  off  in  boats  and 
quenching  the  flames.  He  did  not  mean  that 
any  vessel  he  commanded  should  pass  as  a  tro- 
phy of  war  into  the  hands  of  the  British. 

He  was  himself  the  last  man  to  go  ashore. 
He  never  struck  his  flag,  but,  amid  the  flames  and 
the  smoke,  he  kept  it  proudly  flying  at  the  mast- 
head of  his  vessel,  till  that  and  all  the  rest  wore 
totally  consumed.  Then  he  placed  himself  at 
the  head  of  his  men,  and  marched  off  at  a  rapid 
pace  through  the  woods  to  Crown  Point,  which 
he  reached  in  safety,  and  found  the  rest  of  his 
little  fleet  arrived  before  him.  It  was  fortunate 
for  him  that  he  made  as  much  haste  as  he  did  ; 
for  the  British  had  sent  the  Indians  forward  to 
lay  in  ambush  for  his  party  at  a  particular  place, 
which  place  he  passed  just  an  hour  before  they 
reached  it. 

Waterbury  and  his  men,  who  had  been  taken 
prisoners,  arrived  at  Crown  Point  on  parole  the 
next  day,  and  forthwith  the  entire  American 
force  at  that  place  went  on  board  their  vessels 
and  retreated  southward  to  the  fortress  at  Ticon- 


FIRST   NAVAL   BATTLE   WITH,  ENGLAND.        127 

deroga.  Carleton  came  up  and  occupied  Crown 
Point,  and  for  a  little  while  seemed  to  menace 
Ticonderoga,  appearing  in  its  vicinity  as  if  it 
was  his  design  to  attack  it.  It  was  while  he  was 
in  the  neighborhood  that  Arnold  ventured  out 
from  the  reach  of  protection,  to  reconnoitre.  He 
was  in  a  small  boat,  and  young  Pellew  (after- 
wards Lord  Exmouth)  caught  sight  of  him  and 
chased  him.  His  pursuers  gained  so  fast  upon 
him  that  he  was  obliged  to  run  his  boat  ashore, 
leaping  out  of  it  with  inconsiderate  haste,  and 
leaving  his  stock  and  buckle  as  spoils  for  the 
enemy  behind  him.  This  stock  and  buckle  are 
said  to  be  still  in  possession  of  the  Pellew  family. 

General  Carleton  very  soon  withdrew  with  his 
fleet  down  the  lake  again,  satisfied  that  nothing 
further  could  be  accomplished  at  so  late  a  period 
of  the  year.  In  the  two  days'  engagement  with 
the  enemy,  the  American  loss  was  not  far  from 
ninety  men,  while  that  of  the  former  was  about 
forty.  And  this  brings  us  to  the  close  of  the 
year  1776. 

By  the  display  of  so  much  courage  and  gal- 
lantry in  times  of  peril,  and  by  his  superior 
address  in  deceiving  and  defying  an  enemy  so 


128  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

much  his  superior  in  all  particulars,  Arnold's 
name  was  passed  over  the  country  with  accom- 
paniments of  the  highest  praise.  None  spok« 
of  him  but  in  terms  of  admiration.  His  popu- 
larity was  now  secure.  If  he  had  rested  under 
a  cloud  of  public  prejudice  before,  his  recent 
bravery  had  served  to  dissipate  all  its  darkness. 
From  this  day  he  began  to  be  a  popular  idol,  and 
whenever  his  name  was  publicly  mentioned,  it 
was  only  to  call  up  recollections  of  some  bold 
and  daring  deed,  for  which  that  name  had  now 
become  justly  celebrated. 


CHAPTER     VI. 

INJUSTICE   TO   ARNOLD. 

THE  British  army  having  gone  back  into 
winter-quarters  in  Canada,  a  large  detach- 
ment was  drawn  from  the  American  force 
at  Ticonderoga  and  sent  forward  to  Washing- 
ton's camp  in  New  Jersey.  Arnold  went  along 
with  them,  and  presented  himself  to  Washing- 
ton, on  the  western  side  of  the  Delaware,  exactly 
a  week  before  the  famous  battle  of  Trenton. 
The  Commander-in-chief  had  just  forwarded  a 
letter  to  him,  ordering  him  to  go  to  Rhode  Island 
and  aid  General  Spencer  in  enlisting  recruits  in 
New  England,  with  a  view  to  prevent  the  ene- 
my's advance ;  into  the  interior  for  they  were 
already  hovering  off  the  coast,  and  did  a  very 
few  days  afterwards  take  possession  of  the  town 
of  Newport. 

Arnold  stayed  in  the  camp  of  Washington  but 


130  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

three  days,  and  then  posted  off  for  Providence, 
which  was  the  head-quarters  of  the  eastern  army. 
And  thus  the  two  forces  kept  their  position 
through  the  rest  of  the  winter.  Arnold  was  quite 
active  in  devising  plans  for  harassing  the  British 
and  finally  driving  them  from  the  land,  but  the 
chances  of  enlisting  men  enough  for  carrying  out 
any  plan  to  attack  them,  were  extremely  few  and 
feeble.  He  went  on  to  Boston  to  lay  the  matter 
before  the  legislature  through  some  of  the  most 
influential  men  of  the  State,  but  nothing  resulted 
from  his  errand.  The  people  of  New  England 
were  anxious  enough  to  drive  the  hostile  invaders 
beyond  their  borders,  but  there  were  a  great  many 
obstacles  that  practically  prevented  such  an  un- 
dertaking then.  The  last  year's  campaign  had 
well  nigh  drained  them  of  their  resources,  and 
what  was  more,  they  were  calculating  almost  with 
certainty  on  the  British  army's  marching  down 
out  of  the  northern  country  in  the  spring. 

Late  in  the  winter  of  1776-7,  Congress  ad- 
vanced five  officers,  each  of  them  of  inferior  rank- 
to  Arnold's,  to  one  above  his  own,  making  them 
Major-Generals  in  the  Continental  Army  ;  while 
he  was  slightingly  passed  by  without  any  public 


INJUSTICE    TO    ARNOLD.  131 

notice,  and  left  with  nothing  but  his  old  rank  of 
a  brigadier.  The  transaction  showed  a  motive 
on  the  face  of  it ;  for  certainly  no  one  of  the  five 
men  promoted  had  ever  rendered  such  brilliant 
services  as  he,  nor  done  a  fraction  of  what  he 
had  done  to  inspire  the  minds  of  the  soldiers  with 
enthusiasm. 

Washington  was  sorely  perplexed  at  this  slight 
on  the  part  of  Congress,  for  he  knew  as  well 
as  others,  that  no  conduct  of  Arnold  had  ever 
earned  it ;  and  he  felt  as  well  assured  of  the  mis- 
chief such  a  course  would  make  throughout  the 
army.  He  therefore  set  himself  to  work  apply- 
ing the  remedy. 

Assuming  at  first  that  it  was  nothing  worse 
than  a  mistake  on  the  part  of  Congress,  he  ad- 
dressed a  letter  to  Arnold  at  Providence,  begging 
him  to  keep  perfectly  quiet  and  neither  do  nor 
say  anything  rash,  but  promising,  so  far  as  lay 
with  himself,  to  see  that  this  manifest  wrong  was 
made  right,  A  second  letter  he  forwarded  to 
Lee,  then  in  Congress,  in  which  he  said  of  Ar- 
nold, —  u  Surely,  a  more  active,  a  more  spirited, 
and  sensible  officer,  fills  no  department  of  your 
army.  Not  seeing  him,  then,  in  the  list  of  major- 


132  BKXEDICT   ARNOLD. 

generals,  and  no  mention  made  of  him,  has  given 
me  uneasiness,  as  it  is  not  presumed,  being  the 
oldest  brigadier,  that  he  will  continue  in  service 
under  such  a  slight." 

Arnold  immediately  wrote  back  to  Washing- 
ton, on  receiving  his  letter,  —  "I  am  greatly 
obliged  to  your  Excellency  for  interesting  your- 
self so  much  in  respect  to  my  appointment,  which 
I  have  had  no  advice  of,  and  know  not  by  what 
means  it  was  announced  in  the  papers.  Con- 
gress undoubtedly  have  a  right  of  promoting 
those  whom,  from  their  abilities,  and  their  long 
and  arduous  services,  they  esteem  most  deserving. 
Their  promoting  junior  officers  to  the  rank  of 
major-generals,  I  view  as  a  very  civil  way  of 
requesting  my  resignation,  as  unqualified  for  the 
office  I  hold.  My  commission  was  conferred 
unsolicited,  and  received  with  pleasure  only  as  a 
means  of  serving  my  country.  With  equal  plea- 
sure I  resign  it,  when  I  can  no  longer  serve  my 
country  with  honor." 

He  closed  his  letter  by  protesting  that  he  was? 
even  willing  to  spend  his  life  for  the  welfare  of 
his  native  land,  and  insisting  that  a  court-martial 
should  at  once  be  ordered  to  examine  into  his 


INJUSTICE    TO    ARNOLD.  133 

public  conduct  during  the  war ;  and  added,  that 
he  did  not  intend  to  do  anything  rashly,  but 
should  continue  in  command  of  his  present  post 
at  Providence  until  he  could  relinquish  it  without 
bringing  the  general  cause  into  any  needless  risks 
and  danger. 

Congress  afterwards  explained  the  grounds  of 
their  action  to  Washington.  It  appeared  that 
they  had  made  the  new  promotions  with  as  care- 
ful a  view  to  the  geography  of  the  country,  as  to 
its  productions  in  the  line  of  men ;  and  as  Con- 
necticut had  already  furnished  two  major-gen- 
erals, they  deemed  it  quite  proper  that  in  the  new 
promotions,  candidates  should  be  taken  from 
other  States.  Washington  wrote  to  Arnold  that 
it  was  "  a  strange  mode  of  reasoning,"  yet  he  did 
not  see  on  what  grounds  the  latter  could  ask  for 
a  court  of  inquiry ;  adding  in  complimentary 
phrase,  — "  Your  determination  not  to  quit  your 
present  command,  while  any  danger  to  the  public 
might  ensue  from  your  leaving  it,  deserves  my 
thanks,  and  justly  entitles  you  to  the  thanks  of 
the  country." 

It  was  not  long  before  matters  were  in  train  to 
bring  Arnold  out  before  the  public  eye  again. 
12 


134  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

He  obtained  leave  1o  proceed  to  Philadelphia  and 
lay  his  claims  for  a  court-martial  before  Con- 
gress; at  all  events,  if  that  much  should  not  be 
granted  him,  he  \vas  desirous  of  settling  his 
accounts,  and  as  soon  after  as  possible  of  quitting 
the  public  service. 

It  so  happened  that  the  America  us  had  a  large 
deposit  of  stores  and  provisions  at  Daiibury,  an 
inland  town  in  Western  Connecticut,  some  twen- 
ty-five miles  from  the  coast ;  and  Gov.  Tryon,  the 
British  General,  set  off  by  water  with  a  force  of 
two  thousand  men,  intending  to  pass  up  the 
Sound  from  New  York,  and,  after  landing  at  a 
favorable  point,  to  ma?ch  across  the  land  and 
capture  them.  This  expedition  was  on  the  move 
at  the  very  time  when  Arnold  was  passing 
through  Connecticut  on  his  errand  to  Philadel- 
phia. 

Tryon's  force  was  a  mixed  medley  of  Ameri- 
cans, British,  and  Irish  refugees,  and  made  their 
way  along  the  Connecticut  shore  in  a  fleet  of 
twenty-six  sail,  the  sight  of  which  filled  all  the 
peaceable  settlements  on  the  coast  with  terror. 
He  landed  this  body  of  troops  at  Compo,  a  point 
of  land  near  Fairfield,  and  close  by  the  mouth  of 


INJUSTICE  TO  ARNOLD.  135 

the  Saugatuck  river.  A  handful  of  raw  militia 
flocked  to  give  them  a  warm  reception ;  but  a 
few  cannon  balls  speedily  dispersed  these  and  left 
the  way  open  for  the  enemy's  advance.  The  men 
all  went  ashore  from  the  vessels  just  at  evening 
on  Friday,  the  25th  day  of  April. 

Arnold  had  proceeded  as  far  on  his  journey  as 
New  Haven,  when  he  heard  the  intelligence  of 
the  enemy's  approach ;  and  without  a  thought 
more  of  the  way  in  which  he  had  been  treated  by 
Congress,  he  mounted  his  horse  on  the  instant, 
and,  in  company  with  General  Wooster,  set  off 
at  a  rapid  pace  for  Fairfield,  where  was  General 
Silliman,  commander  of  the  Connecticut  militia. 
It  was  a  long  ride  of  between  twenty  and  thirty 
miles.  They  roused  the  people  as  they  went 
along,  and  there  was  many  a  hamlet,  and  many 
a  plain  and  sequestered  farm-house,  that  gave  its 
generous  and  ready  quota  of  men  to  the  work  of 
driving  the  enemy  from  the  soil. 

The  British  marched  on  seven  miles  into  the 
interior  that  evening,  and  encamped  for  the  night. 
During  the  night  it  rained.  They  started  again 
at  an  early  hour,  and  by  eight  o'clock  reached 
the  town  of  Reading,  only  eight  miles  from  Dan- 


136  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

oury,  where  they  stopped  and  breakfasted.  There 
they  procured  the  services  of  a  couple  of  young 
men,  named  Jarvis,  and  Benedict,  who  showed 
them  the  route  to  Danbury,  and  went  along  with 
them.  It  was  between  one  and  two  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  when  they  reached  the  village,  and 
they  had  proceeded  so  expeditiously  that  none  of 
the  people  heard  of  their  coming  till  they  were 
within  a  few  miles  of  the  town.  And  then  there 
was  such  a  confusion,  flying  and  lamenting  and 
hasty  arranging  for  the  safety  of  Hie  sick  and 
aged,  as  baffles  all  attempt  at  description. 

At  the  little  village  of  Bethel,  Tryon  and  his 
whole  force  of  two  thousand  men  were  suddenly 
brought  to  a  stand  by  the  boldness  of  a  single 
individual  named  Holcomb.  This  man  wished 
to  give  the  inhabitants  of  Danbury  as  much  time 
to  escape  as  possible,  and  he  rode  to  the  brow  of 
a  hill  the  enemy  were  on  the  point  of  climbing, 
and,  turning  his  back  to  them  and  waving  his  hat 
as  if  he  were  addressing  at  least  a  whole  army, 
cried  out  the  top  of  his  voice,  —  "  Halt,  the  whole 
universe!  Break  off  into  kingdoms!"  Tryon 
did  not  understand  what  sort  of  a  force  might  be 
collected  on  the  other  side  of  the  hill,  and  brought 


INJUSTICE  ^o  ARNOLD.  13T 

his  army  to  a  sudden  halt ;  he  then  ordered  his 
cannon  to  the  front,  and  displayed  strong  parties 
at  the  flanks  to  prevent  a  surprise.  Holcomb  saw 
that  he  had  carried  the  stupendous  joke  as  far  as 
it  would  answer,  and  drove  the  spurs  into  his 
horse  and  galloped  off  to  Danbury. 

The  Americans  collected  from  all  quarters  as 
fast  as  they  could,  and  set  off  after  the  marau- 
ders in  hot  pursuit.  It  was  eleven  o'clock  at 
night,  however,  when  they  arrived  at  Bethel,  and 
the  mischief  had  all  been  done  before  then. 
Bethel  is  four  miles  from  Danbury.  They  rested 
here  until  morning,  resolved  then  to  form  and  cut 
off  the  enemy's  retreat  to  their  shipping. 

At  the  time  the  British  came  upon  Danbury, 
there  was  a  body  of  militia-men  an  hundred  and 
fifty  strong  in  the  town ;  feeling  themselves  too 
weak  in  numbers  to  offer  resistance  to  a  force  so 
much  their  superior,  the  commanders  left  the 
town  by  the  north  road  as  the  British  entered  by 
the  south,  and  during  the  night  took  a  circuitous 
route  and  joined  the  rest  of  the  Americans  at 
Bethel. 

This  invasion  of  Tryon  will  ever  be  remem- 
bered in  western  Connecticut,  for  it  was  little 
12* 


138  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

less  than  a  continued  series  of  burnings  and 
cruelty  and  rapine.  The  moment  his  troops 
entered  the  tuwn,  they  began  their  piratical 
work.  The  people  were  insulted  and  outraged  in 
every  imaginable  way.  It  is  stated  that  what 
first  brought  on  the  serious  part  of  the  business, 
was  the  indiscreet  conduct  of  four  men  who  had 
stationed  themselves  in  a  dwelling  house  near 
the  court  house,  and  fired  upon  the  British, 
though  without  effect,  as  they  marched  by.  One 
of  these  zealots  was  a  negro,  and  they  were  all 
excited  with  the  too  free  use  of  liquor.  But  they 
paid  dearly  enough  for  their  folly;  they  were 
instantly  seized  by  the  enemy,  who  rushed  with 
fury  into  the  house,  thrust  them  down  into  the 
cellar,  and  fired  the  building  over  their  heads ! 
All  four  perished  in  the  flames. 

An  anecdote  is  narrated  of  an  old  man  named 
Hamilton,  who  was  bent  on  saving  a  piece  of 
woollen  cloth  which  he  had  left  at  a  clothier's  at 
the  south  end  of  the  village.  He  got  his  cloth, 
tied  one  end  of  it  to  his  saddle,  and  had  just 
jumped  on  his  horse  to  ride  away  with  it,  when 
the  British  troopers  came  up.  Three  of  them  at 
once  set  off  in  pursuit  His  beast  was  slower 


INJUSTICE    TO    ARNOLD.  139 

than  theirs,  and  the  chances  were  all  against  him. 
One  of  them  pretty  soon  caught  up  with  him, 
and  called  out  in  a  taunting  way,  — "  Stop,  old 
daddy  !  stop }  we  '11  have  you !  "  "  Not  yet! "  was 
the  old  gentleman's  answer ;  and  at  that  moment 
his  cloth  began  to  let  itself  out  on  the  wind. 
Such  a  fluttering  did  it  make  as  it  streamed  far 
out  behind  him,  that  the  troopers'  horses  could 
not  be  made  to  approach  any  nearer,  and  by  the 
means  he  got  several  rods  the  start  of  them. 
They  chased  him  all  the  way  to  the  bridge  at  the 
north  end  of  the  town,  where  they  were  obliged 
to  give  over.  Several  times  they  raised  their 
sabres  to  cut  him  down,  but  the  troublesome 
streamer  of  cloth  was  always  tangling  itself  up 
and  flirting  in  their  way.  He  carried  off  his 
prize",  and  most  courageously  had  he  earned  it. 

Having  begun  their  work  in  this  way,  they 
next  attacked  the  public  stores.  The  Episcopal 
Church  was  filled  up  to  the  galleries  with  flour 
and  pork,  and  provisions  were  likewise  stored  in 
two  other  buildings.  These  were  immediately 
sacked,  and  the  stores  thrown  out  into  the  street. 
The  soldiers  drank  freely  of  the  ardent  spirits 
they  found,  and  were  very  soon  more  or  less 


140  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

intoxicated.  Indeed,  they  gave  up  the  rest  of  the 
day  and  night  to  a  general  carouse ;  nor  could 
their  officers  have  stopped  them  if  they  had  tried. 

The  night  came  on  dark  as  pitch.  Those  who 
were  already  sober  were  too  much  fatigued  from 
their  two  days'  march  to  keep  awake;  and  the 
others  certainly  could  not  have  done  so.  Try  on 
found  it  a  difficult  matter  to  procure  even  sen:i- 
nels  enough  to  keep  the  necessary  watch.  In  fact, 
there  were  not  over  three  hundred  men  out  of  his 
whole  two  thousand,  on  whom  he  could  at  this 
time  rely.  Could  the  Americans  have  been  ap- 
prized of  his  real  condition,  they  might  have 
attacked  him  in  the  night,  and  won  an  easy 
victory.  This  was  what  Tryon  chiefly  feared. 
He  did  not  sleep  a  wink  that  night  himself,  but 
remained  in  a  state  of  helpless  suspense  until 
morning.  A  tory  brought  him  word  of  the  rapid 
gathering  of  the  Americans  at  Bethel,  and  he 
concluded  it  was  best  for  him  to  be  off  as  soon 
as  he  could  start. 

He  therefore  began  his  retreat  out  of  town 
before  daylight  on  the  27th.  This  was  Sunday 
morning,  quiet  and  holy.  The  houses  of  the 
tories  in  the  town  had  all  been  marked  the  even- 


INJUSTICE  TO  ARNOLD.  141 

ing  before  with  a  cross  that  could  easily  be  dis- 
tinguished, and  these  were  spared.  To  the  re- 
mainder the  torch  was  applied,  and  before  the 
day  broke  in  the  east  the  flames  were  lighting  up 
the  country  all  around  with  their  lurid  radiance. 
And  thus  was  a  beautiful  and  inoffensive  village 
devoted  to  destruction  by  an  enemy  that  hoped 
to  conquer  a  peace  by  such  ruthless  barbarities. 

By  this  attack  on  Danbury,  three  thousand 
barrels  of  pork  and  over  one  thousand  barrels  of 
flour  were  destroyed,  together  with  four  hundred 
barrels  of  beef,  seventeen  hundred  tents,  and  two 
thousand  bushels  of  grain.  The  spirits  and 
sundry  other  articles  likewise  destroyed  were  in 
the  same  ratio.  The  entire  loss  to  the  American 
army  in  money  was  more  than  seventy  thousand 
dollars ;  but  it  was  not  easy  to  estimate  it  in  such 
a  way,  at  a  crisis  like  the  one  we  were  then  pass- 
ing through. 

It  is  as  well  to  add  in  this  place,  that  the  two 
fellows  —  Jarvis  and  Benedict  —  who  had  piloted 
the  British  army  across  the  country  to  Danbury, 
left  that  part  of  the  country  forthwith.  Jarvis 
went  to  Nova  Scotia.  He  returned  to  Danbury 
many  years  afterwards,  and  went  to  his  father's 


142  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

house ;  but  the  people,  as  soon  as  they  heard  of 
it,  procured  a  coat  of  tar  and  feathers,  and  sur- 
rounded the  house  with  the  determination  to 
capture  him.  They  demanded  of  his  friends  that 
they  should  give  him  up,  and  some  of  them 
entered  the  house  to  take  him  ;  but  his  sister  hid 
him  in  an  ash  oven,  and  he  lay  thus  concealed 
until  the  search  was  over  and  they  had  all  gone. 
He  then  secretly  took  himself  out  of  the  town 
forever.  Benedict  came  back,  intending  to  spend 
the  rest  of  his  days  among  those  who  could  not 
help  despising  him ;  but  on  hearing  loud  threats 
of  being  ridden  out  of  town  on  a  sharp  rail,  he 
concluded  he  could  find  more  peaceful  quarters 
elsewhere. 

The  Americans  were  now  six  hundred  strong 
at  Bethel.  The  Generals  divided  them  into  two 
parties,  having  heard  that  Tryon  had  shaped  his 
course  south-westerly,  instead  of  south-easterly, 
by  the  way  he  came;  one  division,  consisting  of 
two  hundred  men,  commanded  by  Wooster,  and 
the  other,  of  four  hundred  men,  was  led  by  Gen- 
erals Arnold  and  Silliman.,  The  plan  now  was, 
both  to  harass  the  enemy  in  their  rear  and  to  cut 
off  their  retreat  to  their  shipping. 


INJUSTICE   TO    ARNOLD.  14f3 

Wooster  started  after  them  at  nine  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  and  was  not  long  in  overtaking 
them.  This  was  before  they  reached  Ridgefield. 
He  at  once  fell  upon  the  rear  guard,  and  captured 
forty  prisoners  after  but  little  fighting.  Two 
miles  out  of  Ridgefield  they  had  another  brush, 
on  broken  ground  which  favored  that  kind  of 
fighting.  The  British  were  hidden  behind  a  hill, 
and  Wooster  was  urging  his  men  forward  to 
another  attack.  A  discharge  of  artillery,  how- 
ever, seemed  to  make  them  a  little  timid.  "  Come 
on,  my  boys!"  shouted  Wooster  from  his  horse; 
"  never  mind  such  random  shots  ! "  He  had 
hardly  spoken  the  cheering  words  when  a  musket 
ball  entered  his  side,  and  he  fell  from  his  horse 
mortally  wounded.  His  men  at  once  fled  in  dis- 
order. He  was  carried  from  the  field  and 
removed  to  Danbury,  whither  his  wife  and  son 
hastened  to  solace  him  in  his  dying  moments; 
and  there  he  lingered  along  till  the  2d  of  May, 
when  he  died.  It  is  a  standing  shame  to  the 
town  that  to  this'day  even  the  place  of  his  burial 
cannot  be  distinguished.  At  the  time  he  fell 
fighting  so  bravely,  he  was  an  old  man  of  sixty- 
seven  years,  with  all  the  fire  of  youth  still  burn- 
ing in  his  heart. 


144  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

Arnold  and  Silliman  started  across  the  country 
to  head  the  British  off.  About  eleven  o'clock  in 
the  forenoon  of  that  Sunday  they  reached  Ridge- 
field,  having  five  hundred  men  under  their  com- 
mand. Arnold  chose  his  position  on  the  road  by 
which  the  British  were  coming,  and  began  to  get 
ready  to  receive  them.  He  hastily  threw  up  a 
barricade  of  carts,  logs,  earth,  and  stones  across 
the  road,  having  a  house  and  barn  on  his  right, 
and  a  ledge  of  rocks  on  his  left. 

By  and  by  the  British  approached.  The  mo- 
ment they  saw  what  a  formidable  obstacle  lay 
across  their  path,  the  main  body  advanced  in 
solid  column,  while  other  detachments  made  a 
movement  to  gain  the  American  rear.  In  this 
they  were  finally  successful,  since  they  so  greatly 
outnumbered  the  handful  of  Americans  and 
could  readily  accomplish  it.  Arnold  ordered  a 
letreat  when  he  saw  that  no  more  could  be  done 
to  stay  their  progress,  and  was  himself  engaged 
in  bringing  away  the  rear  when  a  whole  platoon 
of  British  muskets  belched  forth  their  fire  upon 
him  from  the  ledge,  and  his  horse  instantly  fell, 
coming  down  on  his  knees.  Arnold  found  his 
feet  entangled  in  the  stirrups,  and  for  a  moment 


INJUSTICE    TO    ARNOJJ).  145 

was  not  able  to  rise.  A  tory  villain  seeing  the 
plight  he  was  in,  ran  up  with  fixed  bayonet,  in- 
tending to  capture  him  whether  dead  or  alive. 
"  You  are  my  prisoner ! "  shouted  the  tory.  "  Not 
yet!  "  answered  Arnold;  and  with  great  presence 
of  mind  he  drew  a  pistol  from  the  holsters  and 
shot  him  dead  in  his  tracks.  He  then  extricated 
himself  from  the  stirrups,  and  fled  to  a  swamp 
near  by,  volleys  of  the  enemy's  bullets  whistling 
after  him  all  the  way. 

So  cool  an  action  is  very  rarely  recorded  of 
any  one  in  a  time  of  great  danger.  It  drew  forth 
the  admiration  of  all  to  whom  it  soon  after  be- 
came known.  A  few  years  ago,  an  old  man,  who 
was  a  boy  at  the  time  of  this  transaction,  declared 
that  himself  and  a  few  other  boys  skinned  Ar- 
nold's horse,  after  t^e  battle,  and  found  nine  bullet 
holes  in  his  hide!  It  was  wonderful  that  the 
brave  rider  should  himself  have  escaped. 

That  night,  the  British  stayed  in  Ridgeneld. 
The  Americans  still  hung  on  their  rear,  while  Ar- 
nold again  took  the  saddle  and  threw  himself  in 
the  way  of  their  advance.  His  own  force  was 
now  considerably  strengthened  by  two  companies 
of  artillery  and  three  field  pieces. 

13 


146  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

The  enemy  sa\v  where  he  had  posted  himself 
in  their  way,  and  at  once  turned  oil"  lo  t;ike 
another  route,  intending  to  ford  the  Saugatuck 
river.  Arnold  hurried  to  get  across  the  bridge 
below  the  ford,  with  the  design  of  taking  Ihem  in 
flank ;  but  he  found  he  was  just  too  late.  Still, 
the  field  pieces  were  brought  to  bear,  and  a  hot 
skirmish  of  fifteen  minutes  ensued,  during  which 
seven  or  eight  men  were  killed.  He  continued  to 
push  on  in  pursuit  as  far  as  Compo,  where  they 
had  just  landed,  which  was  now  about  three 
miles  distant  to  the  south.  Here  they  had  an- 
other skirmish  with  the  right  flank  of  their  rear  ; 
and  had  it  not  been  for  the  sudden  assistance 
which  came  from  the  marines  who  were  sent  on 
shore  from  the  ships,  they  would  all  have  bi-en 
made  prisoners  and  carried  back  into  the  interior. 
A  great  many  Connecticut  farmers  had  collected 
at  this  place  through  the  day,  and  Arnold  exerted 
himself  with  his  usual  energy  to  induce  them  to 
go  into  the  fight ;  had  it  not  been  for  their  strange 
cowardice,  the  enemy  would  have  been  over- 
come. 

While  urging  them  forward  to  the  conflict,  a 
second  horse  was  shot  under  General  Arnold, 
and  a  bullet  passed  through  his  coat  collar. 


INJtTSTICE    TO   ARNOLD.  147 

The  enemy  finally  took  to  their  boats  under 
the  protection  of  the  marines,  and  escaped  in 
safety  ;  the  latter  afterwards,  by  a  sudden  move- 
ment, secured  their  own  escape.  It  was  sunset 
by  this  time,  and  the  British  fleet  weighed  anchor 
and  sailed  out  of  sight. 

The  Americans  lost  during  this  invasion  about 
an  hundred  men ;  the  British  lost  three  times  as 
many.  The  infamous  Gov.  Tryon  was  safe  on 
board  his  ship,  but  he  did  not  leave  the  soil 
without  carrying  away  a  souvenir  of  his  unwel- 
come visit  in  the  shape  of  a  wound. 

Congress  was  obliged  to  confess  to  the  bravery 
of  Arnold  in  these  engagements,  and  at  once 
directed  the  quarter-master  to  "  procure  a  horse 
and  present  the  same,  properly  caparisoned,  to 
Major- General  Arnold,  as  a  token  of  their  ap- 
probation of  his  gallant  conduct  in  the  action 
against  the  enemy  in  the  late  enterprise  to  Dan- 
bury."  At  the  same  time  they  promoted  him  to 
the  rank  he  had  so  long  and  unjustly  been  de- 
prived of,  as  the  order  just  quoted  shows.  Still, 
it  left  him  below  the  other  four  Major-generals, 
and  the  case  was  as  bad  as  before ;  besides,  by 
making  the  appointment  now,  the  old  geograph- 


148  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

ical  objection  to  it  was  destroyed,  and  unless 
there  was  some  secret  feeling  against  him,  he 
should  have  been  given  the  seniority  to  which 
his  brilliant  services  fully  entitled  him. 

The  gift  and  the  promotion,  therefore,  appeared 
to  betray  an  inconsistency  on  the  part  of  Con- 
gress ;  with  one  hand  they  gave,  and  with  the 
other  they  took.  Washington  saw  the  injustice, 
and  felt  it  keenly ;  writing  to  the  president  of 
Congress  about  Arnold,  he  said,  —  "  He  has  cer- 
tainly discovered,  in  every  instance  where  he  has 
had  an  opportunity,  much  bravery,  activity,  and 
enterprise.  But  what  will  be  done  about  his 
rank  ?  He  will  not  act,  most  probably,  under 
those  he  commanded  but  a  few  weeks  ago." 

Still,  nothing  was  done.  "Washington  gave 
him  the  command  on  the  Hudson,  thinking  thus  to 
testify  his  own  appreciation  of  his  services,  and 
likewise  to  heal  the  wound  which  Congress  per- 
sisted in  keeping  open.  It  was  as  honorable  a 
position  as  any  Major-general  in  the  army  could 
have  desired  :  but  Arnold  declined  it,  determined 
to  go  on  and  prosecute  his  demands  himself  be- 
fore Congress. 

Arrived  at  Philadelphia,  he  saw  what  a 


INJUSTICE   TO   ARNOLD.  149 

prejudice  existed  against  him  among  the  mem- 
bers, and  how  fruitless  almost  it  would  be  for 
him  to  try  to  make  head  against  it.  All  the  old 
stories  about  him  at  Ticonderoga  had  been 
brought  up,  and  were  having  their  influence. 
There  is  no  disputing  that,  even  if  Congress  took 
the  right  view  of  his  real  character  and  felt  a  dis- 
position to  treat  him  with  distrust,  they  did  not 
deal  with  such  a  man  with  the  good  judgment 
and  skill  we  should  have  expected.  It  is  un- 
questionable that  they  made  a  serious  mistake, 
or  rather  a  series  of  mistakes ;  and  the  natural 
fruit  was  borne  a  little  more  than  three  years 
afterwards. 

Arnold  wrote  to  them,  —  "1  am  exceedingly 
unhappy  to  find  that,  after  having  made  every 
sacrifice  of  fortune,  ease,  and  domestic  happiness 
to  serve  my  country,  I  am  publicly  impeached 
(in  particular  by  Lieut.  Col.  Brown)  of  a  cata- 
logue of  crimes,  which,  if  true,  ought  to  subject 
me  to  disgrace,  infamy,  and  the  just  resentment 
of  my  countrymen.  Conscious  of  the  rectitude 
of  my  intentions,  however  I  may  have  erred  in 
judgment,  I  must  request  the  favor  of  Congress 
to  point  out  some  mode  by  which  my  conduct 
13* 


150  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

and  that  of  rny  accusers  may  be  inquired  into, 
and  justice  done  to  the  innocent  and  injured." 

His  letter  was  referred  to  the  Board  of  War, 
who  reported  lhat  they  saw  no  fault  whatever  to 
find  with  General  Arnold,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
they  thought  that  his  character  had  been  "cruelly 
and  groundlessly  aspersed. "  Congress  accepted 
this  report,  thus  subscribing  to  the  opinion  of  the 
Board ;  yet  they  did  not  restore  him  to  the  rank 
to  which  he  was  properly  entitled,  and  thus 
opened  the  way  for  all  the  calamities  that  natur- 
ally followed  such  unjust  conduct. 

Arnold  next  presented  his  accounts  to  Con- 
gress for  final  settlement ;  and  while  these  were 
under  the  examination  of  a  committee,  he  was 
appointed  to  the  command  of  the  army  near 
Philadelphia,  which  was  concentrating  to  oppose 
the  advance  of  General  Howe  across  the  Dela- 
ware into  Pennsylvania.  He  was  soon  after  sent 
forward  to  a  point  on  the  river  above  Trenton, 
where  he  could  be  of  more  immediate  service  in 
conjunction  with  the  main  body  of  the  army  un- 
der Washington.  Howe  made  a  movement  from 
Brunswick  towards  Washington's  position,  but 
soon  retired  to  that  place  again  ;  and  finding 


INJUSTICE   TO   ARNOLD.  151 

nothing  was  likely  to  be  done,  Arnold  went  back 
with  his  force  to  Philadelphia. 

Still,  Congress  made  no  progress  with  his  ac- 
counts. He  was  irritated  at  the  delay  beyond 
measure,  and  forthwith  sent  them  a  letter  resign- 
ing his  commission.  He  said  that  he  still  loved 
his  country  as  much  as  ever,  and  was  still  willing 
to  risk  his  life  in  her  imperilled  cause ;  "  but,"  he 
continued,  "  honor  is  a  sacrifice  no  man  ought  to 
make ;  as  I  received,  so  I  wish  to  transmit  it  in- 
violate to  posterity. " 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE   NORTHERN   ARMY. 

VERY  unexpectedly  to  all  who  kept  their 
eyes  fixed  on  the  army  in  the  vicinity  of 
Ticonderoga,  that  fortress  was  suddenly 
deserted  by  the  American  troops,  and  the  British 
advance  under  Burgoyne  made  their  way  down- 
wards from  the  north  unmolested. 

Burgoyne  had  been  gathering  his  forces  at  St. 
John's,  on  the  Sorel  river,  for  some  time,  prepar- 
ing for  the  descent  he  afterwards  made.  In  fact, 
the  whole  of  the  memorable  campaign  of  the  year 
1777,  at  the  end  of  which  he  and  his  army  were 
taken  prisoners,  was  mapped  out  by  Lord  Ger- 
maine,  the  British  Secretary  of  War,  and  him- 
self, some  time  before  he  came  over  and  took 
command.  Governor  Carleton,  of  Canada,  gave 
the  plan  all  the  aid  possible.  By  the  1st  of  June, 
therefore,  six  thousand  men  were  assembled  at 


THE   NORTHERN    ARMY.  153 

St.  John's,  ready  to  take  boats  and  go  up  the 
lake.  They  immediately  embarked,  and  set  sail 
for  Cumberland  Head,  where  they  waited  for 
ammunition  and  stores,  and  then  pushed  on.  At 
the  river  Boquet,  a  few  miles  north  of  Crown 
Point,  they  landed  and  held  a  council  with  the 
Indians.  Burgoyne  made  a  war-feast  for  the 
savages,  and  then  addressed  them  in  a  pompous 
speech,  which  at  this  day  sounds  no  more  ridicu- 
lous than  it  must  have  sounded  then. 

St.  Clair  was  in  command  at  Ticonderoga,  and 
his  scouts  brought  him  word  of  the  enemy's  com- 
ing. They  had  seen  their  boats,  their  vessels, 
and  the  savages,  with  the  smokes  of  their  wig- 
wams on  the  hillsides.  The  enemy's  number 
was  greatly  exaggerated,  and  St.  Clair  felt  fright- 
ened. He  wrote  down  to  General  Schuyler,  who 
was  stationed  at  Fort  Edward,  about  it,  and  the 
latter  despatched  the  letter  to  Washington,  urg- 
ing that  reinforcements  should  be  sent  immedi- 
ately to  his  relief.  Enjoining  it  upon  St.  Clair 
likewise  to  keep  a  sharp  look  out  on  the  east  and 
west  sides  of  the  lake,  he  started  off  himself  from 
Fort  Edward  for  Albany,  to  get  what  aid  was  to 
be  had  there. 


154  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

Every  sign  went  to  show  by  this  time  that  the 
British  intended  to  invest  and  finally  capture  the 
fortress  at  Ticonderoga.  They  were  so  shaping 
matters  as  to  cut  off  all  communication  of  the 
garrison  with  the  country  below.  Forces  were 
assembling  on  the  east  and  west,  to  make  ready 
for  the  final  demonstration.  Schuyler  promised 
St.  Clair  that  he  would  help  him  if  help  was  pos- 
sible ;  but  no  symptoms  of  aid  showed  them- 
selves, and  day  after  day  slipped  rapidly  by.  The 
enemy's  vessels  were  coming  nearer  and  nearer. 
At  Ticonderoga  the  garrison  could  hear  the 
morning  guns  of  the  British  fleet,  over  the  water, 
continually.  The  enemy  are  in  front  of  them ; 
the  enemy  are  seeking  to  post  themselves  around 
them ;  and  they  will  very  soon  wind  a  complete 
coil  about  their  position,  in  whose  folds  there  is 
no  chance  of  escape. 

St  Clair  waited  for  succor,  and  waited  in  vain. 
It  was  already  the  last  of  June. 

On  the  1st  of  July,  Burgoyne  came  within  four 
miles  of  the  fortress ;  here  he  encamped,  began  to 
erect  works  for  defence,  and  threw  a  heavy  boom 
across  the  lake.  He  issued  at  this  place  another 
pronunciainento  to  the  savages,  even  more  full 


THE   NORTHERN   ARMY.  155 

of  nonsense  than  the  other.  Schuyler  had  in  the 
meantime  been  doing  all  he  could.  He  made  a 
draft  on  Gen.  Putnam  at  Peekskill  for  men,  but 
they  had  not  arrived  at  Albany,  as  expected,  on 
the  5th.  He  said  he  should  go  without  them,  if 
they  did  not  arrive  on  the  6th ;  they  did  not 
arrive,  and  he  set  out  with  a  force  of  militia  on 
the  7th. 

He  had  gone  only  as  far  as  Stillwater,  on  the 
Hudson,  when  the  astounding  news  reached  him 
that  St.  Clair  had  evacuated  Ticonderoga,  and 
made  his  retreat  to  Fort  Edward.  Some  of  the 
troops  belonging  to  St.  Glair's  army  had  had  a 
fight  with  the  British,  who  pursued  them,  while 
St.  Clair  himself  had  disappeared  into  the  forest, 
and  not  been  heard  of  since  by  any  one ! 

St.  Clair  had  abandoned  his  post,  which  was  a 
strong  one,  without  firing  a  gun.  Washington 
was  struck  dumb  with  the  intelligence ;  he  could 
not  conceive  its  cause  or  meaning.  In  this 
dilemma,  he  had  vast  plans  resting  upon  him 
indeed.  It  was  necessary  for  him  to  hold  the 
posts  on  the  Hudson,  to  prevent  the  junction  of 
Burgoyne  on  the  north  and  General  Howe  from 
New  York  ;  Philadelphia  must  likewise  be  guard- 


156  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

ed,  since  the  enemy  were  already  making  a  feint 
in  that  direction ;  and  on  the  east,  the  necessity 
of  remaining  as  strong  as  possible  was  just  as 
apparent  now  as  it  was  on  the  day  the  British 
determined  to  destroy  the  stores  at  Concord.  The 
enemy  likewise  had  another  plan,  which  they 
began  to  put  in  operation  as  soon  as  Burgoyne 
commenced  his  march  southward ;  Lieut.  Col. 
St.  Leger,  with  a  force  of  seven  hundred  Cana- 
dians and  regulars,  was  to  effect  a  landing  at 
Oswego,  and,  joined  by  the  tories  and  Indians 
under  Johnson,  was  to  distract  the  attention  of 
Schuyler  by  passing  down  the  Mohawk  Valley 
towards  the  Hudson,  besiege  and  capture  Fort 
Stanwix  (or  Schuyler),  lay  waste  the  settlements 
along  their  route,  and  at  last  unite  with  Bur- 
goyne about  the  time  he  should  arrive  at  Albany 
from  the  Lake. 

It  was  a  fine  plan,  if  it  had  only  worked  well. 
With  such  diverse  and  widely  separated  points 
to  protect,  it  is  easy  to  understand  that  Wash' 
ington  had  as  full  a  weight  of  responsibility  upon 
him  as  even  his  large  and  comprehensive  mind 
could  well  bear. 

It  was  while  matters  were  in  this  state,  Con- 


THE   NORTHERN   ARMY.  157 

gress  having  done  nothing  as  yet  in  the  way  of 
justice  to  Arnold,  that  the  latter  sent  in  his  letter 
of  resignation.  At  the  same  moment  came  also 
a  letter  from  Washington  to  Congress,  requesting 
that  Arnold  should  at  once  be  sent  to  the  north- 
ern army ;  "  I  need  not  enlarge,"  said  he,  "  upon 
his  well-known  activity,  conduct  and  bravery. 
The  proofs  he  has  given  of  all  these  have  gained 
him  the  confidence  of  the  public  arid  of  the  army, 
the  Eastern  troops  in  particular."  Arnold  re- 
flected upon  the  matter,  agreed  to  waive  for  the 
present  all  thought  of  his  injuries,  and  asked  that 
his  letter  of  resignation  be  left  unconsidered  until 
he  could  first  go  and  render  the  service  needed  on 
the  northern  frontier. 

Washington  set  matters  in  train  for  defence 
against  the  irruption  of  the  British  from  the 
north,  without  delay.  He  never  despaired,  let 
the  skies  look  as  dark  as  they  might.  He  ordered 
all  the  vessels  not  needed  at  Albany  to  move 
down  to  Fishkill,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  transport 
the  troops  there  to  the  northward,  the  moment 
Howe  began  his  advance  up  the  river.  He  next 
issued  circulars  to  all  the  brigadier-generals  in 
Western  Connecticut  and  Massachusetts,  request- 
14 


158  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

ing  them  to  concentrate  at  least  a  third  of  their 
militia  forces  at  or  near  Saratoga,  or  wherever 
Generals  Schuyler  and  Arnold  might  direct 

Schuyler  now  had  deserted  Fort  Edward,  and 
moved  down  four  miles  below  to  Moses  Creek ; 
and  the  men  were  engaged  in  throwing  up  works 
of  defence.  While  here,  several  letters  passed 
between  him  and  the  commander-in-chief  rela- 
tive to  the  work  to  be  done ;  the  latter  suggested, 
among  other  things,  that  if  Fort  Stanwix  should 
be  threatened,  General  Arnold  would  be  just  the 
officer  to  take  command  of  that  position,  for  he 
could  do  as  much  as  any  man  to  inspirit  the  gar- 
rison and  the  inhabitants  in  the  neighborhood. 

While  Burgoyne  and  his  semi-barbarous  force 
\vrre  at  Fort  Anne,  some  distance  below  Lake 
Champlain,  he  contemplated  several  plans  by 
means  of  which  he  might  make  his  Indian  allies 
of  service  to  him.  They  were  treacherous  fellows, 
and  already  occasioned  him  a  deal  of  trouble. 
And  the  Canadian  interpreters,  or  go-betweens, 
were  the  knaves  who  successfully  imposed  upon 
both  himself  and  them.  Many  of  these  very  same 
-a vages  had  previously  served  with  the  French 
against  the  British,  during  the  Old  Frerfch  War. 


THE    NORTHERN    ARMY.  159 

At  this  time  it  was  that  a  tragedy  occurred  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  deserted  Fort  Edward,  which 
has  left  one  of  the  foulest  blots  in  history  upon 
the  name  and  fame  of  Burgoyne ;  and  yet  he 
may  not  himself  be  held  altogether  responsible, 
since  the  plan  of  employing  Indians  to  help  them 
fight  their  battles  in  America,  was  a  favorite  one 
with  the  Ministry  at  home. 

There  was  a  young  man  named  David  Jones 
in  the  division  of  General  Frazer,  an  American 
by  birth,  yet  still  loyal  to  the  King.  Previous  to 
the  revolution,  he  had  been  living  near  Fort  Ed- 
ward. A  young  and  lovely  girl,  named  Jane 
McRea,  the  daughter  of  a  Scotch  Presbyterian 
clergyman  in  New  Jersey,  likewise  lived  about 
five  miles  below  the  Fort  at  the  same  time  ;  hei 
father  was  dead,  and  she  had  made  her  home 
with  her  brother.  Thus,  being  neighbors,  a 
strong  and  fond  attachment  sprang  up  between 
the  young  man  and  the  young  girl,  and  they  soon 
exchanged  vows  of  fidelity  and  devotion.  In 
fact,  they  were  all  ready  to  be  married  when  the 
war  between  America  and  the  mother  country 
broke  oat. 

The  Joneses,  however,  favored  the  royal  cause -? 


160  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

while  the  family  in  which  the  beautiful  Jane 
McRea  lived  were  devoted  to  the  cause  of  Amer- 
ica. It  was  therefore  quite  natural,  even  if  it 
were  not  necessary,  that  the  former  should  move 
off  into  Canada,  where  all  were  royalists  alike. 
Young  Jones  was  there  invested  with  a  Lieu- 
tenant's commission.  Still,  absence  served  to 
make  no  inroad  on  their  affection.  They  kept  up 
a  correspondence  with  one  another,  and  proffered 
all  the  former  tokens  of  devotion  on  the  one  side 
and  the  other. 

Just  at  this  present  time,  Jones  was  serving 
with  General  Fraser,  who  had  advanced  with  his 
division  to  within  a  short  distance  of  Fort  Ed- 
ward ;  in  this  neighborhood  the  young  man  felt 
perfectly  at  home  again.  His  youthful  lady-love 
had  just  previously  left  her  brother's,  below  Fort 
Edward,  and  gone  on  a  brief  visit  to  a  Mrs. 
O'Neil,  who  lived  at  the  Fort. 

As  soon  as  the  news  spread  that  Burgoyne 
was  approaching  with  his  army  of  British  and 
Indians,  the  people  began  to  scatter.  Miss 
McRea's  brother  sent  for  her  to  come  home  as 
quick  as  she  could,  intending  to  take  all  and  go 
down  to  Albany.  She  did  not  obey  at  once, 


THE    NORTHERN    ARMY.  161 

however,  for  there  were  too  many  inducements 
for  her  to  remain  a  little  longer  where  she  was. 
Her  lover  was  with  the  British  army  just  above, 
and  the  lady  with  whom  she  was  staying  was 
likewise  a  royalist ;  she  had  not  rested  her  eyes 
in  a  long  time  on  the  form  of  her  betrothed  ;  she 
knew  there  could  be  nothing  to  fear,  with  friends 
all  around  her ;  and  she  kept  delaying,  and 
delaying,  determined  to  have  an  interview  with 
her  lover  if  she  could  reach  him. 

Her  brother  sent  up  a  second  message,  urging 
her  in  stronger  terms  to  come  away  and  join  the 
family,  and  setting  forth  the  danger  of  remaining 
where  she  was,  at  the  Fort.  Still  she  did  not  go. 
She  felt  no  fear,  even  should  Burgoyne  come 
and  capture  the  Fort ;  for  then  she  would  only 
be  united  with  the  one  whom  her  heart  had  so 
long  treasured. 

More  messages  came  from  her  brother ;  so  em- 
phatic and  urgent  now,  that  even  her  infatuation 
began  to  yield ;  and  she  got  ready,  with  several 
other  families,  though  not  without  much-  relua- 
tance,  to  embark  on  a  large  and  commodious 
bateau,  and  make  her  way  down  the  river, 

But  her  resolution,  alas  !  was  taken  a  little  too 
14* 


162  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

late.  Had  she  gone  before,  her  life  would  have 
been  spared.  On  the  very  morning  set  for  the 
journey,  a  band  of  Indians  made  an  irruption 
into  the  neighborhood,  sent  out  by  Burgoyne  to 
plunder  and  annoy  all  who  remained  near  the 
camp  of  General  Schuyler.  Early  in  the  morn- 
ing 1hey  came  and  burst  into  the  house  of  Mrs. 
O'Neil. 

A  black  boy  who  belonged  to  Mrs.  O'Neil 
saw  them  coming  just  in  time  to  give  the  alarm 
to  his  mistress,  and  then  ran  off  himself  to  the 
Fort.  The  only  persons  in  the  house  were  the 
old  lady,  young  Jenny  McRea,  two  small  chil- 
dren, and  a  black  female  servant.  The  latter 
caught  up  the  children  and  fled  to  the  kitchen, 
which  in  those  days  stood  a  few  feet  distant  from 
the  house ;  as  soon  as  she  gained  this  place,  she 
opened  a  trap-door  in  the  floor  and  climbed  down 
with  all  haste  into  the  cellar.  Jenny  and  Mrs. 
O'Neil  ran  on  after  her  as  fast  as  they  could. 
Jenny  got  to  the  trap-door  first,  and  managed  to 
descend  into  the  cellar  before  the  savages  came 
up ;  but  the  old  lady  was  not  quite  as  agile,  and 
got  but  part  way  down  when  her  Indian  pursuers 
espied  her,  and,  seizing  her  by  the  hair  of  her 


THE    NORTHERN    ARMY.  163 

X 

head,  violently  dragged  her  up  again.  They  next 
went  down  and  found  Jenny,  and  pulled  her  out 
of  her  hiding  place  also.  The  black  girl  they  for- 
tunately did  not  see,  on  account  of  the  darkness ; 
and  so  she  and  the  two  children  escaped. 

Jenny  and  the  old  lady  they  bore  away  in  tri- 
umph to  the  camp  of  Burgoyne.  Coming  to 
the  foot  of  a  hill,  they  captured  two  horses  that 
were  grazing  there  ;  on  one  of  them  they  tried  to 
place  Mrs.  O'Neil,  but  she  was  so  heavy  and 
unwieldy  that  they  did  not  succeed,  and  so  hur- 
ried her  on  up  the  hill.  Jenny,  however,  they 
lifted  to  the  other  horse's  back,  and  set  out  with 
her  thus  mounted  for  the  camp,  furnishing  her 
with  as  ample  and  attentive  an  escort  as  she 
could  ask. 

Mrs.  O'Neil  was  carried  directly  into  camp  by 
the  Indians,  and  forthwith  began  to  upbraid  Gen- 
eral Frazer,  who  was  her  relative,  for  permitting 
his  Indians  to  use  her  in  this  way ;  but  he  de- 
clared he  did  not  know  she  was  in  that  part  of 
the  country,  and  made  haste  to  make  her  as  com- 
fortable as  he  could. 

While  she  was  thus  detained,  two  parties  of 
savages  came  in  bringing  several  scalps  reeking 


164  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

with  blood.  The  old  lady  looked  at  them  with  a 
chill  of  horror.  As  she  gazed,  her  fears  told  her 
that  the  long  silken  tresses  by  which  one  w:is 
held,  could  be  none  other  than  the  beautiful  locks 
of  her  dear  Jenny !  It  was,  alas !  too  true.  No 
language  can  fitly  describe  the  anguish  of  her 
heart.  She  could  scarcely  have  suffered  more 
intensely,  had  she  been  put  to  the  torture  by  the 
savages  herself. 

These  luxuriant  locks  of  the  young  girl  were 
said  to  be  a  yard  and  a  quarter  long;  and  the 
hues  were  such  as  greatly  heightened  the  natural 
attractions  of  her  face  and  features. 

The  Indians,  on  being  brought  to  account  for 
this  atrocious  murder  of  an  innocent  girl,  ex- 
plained that  they  were  coming  along  the  road 
near  the  spring  by  a  well-known  pine  tree,  when 
a  bullet  was  shot  from  the  gun  of  some  American 
scouting  party,  which  brought  her  from  the  horse 
she  was  riding  to  the  ground.  Not  being  able 
then  to  bring  her  in  as  a  trophy  to  the  camp,  they 
resolved  to  do  the  next  best  thing,  and  carry  in 
her  scalp!  They  of  course  expected  their  re- 
ward. 

It  was  told  around  at  that  time,  that  young 


THE    NORTHERN    ARJMY.  165 

Lieutenant  Jones  had  employed  these  Indians  to 
go  to  the  house  where  she  was  staying,  and  bring 
her  into  the  camp ;  and  that  they  had  stopped  at 
the  spring  with  her,  and  fallen  into  a  quarrel  about 
the  amount  of  the  reward  they  were  to  get  for 
performing  their  errand  ;  in  the  midst  of  which 
one  savage  chief  suddenly  slew  her,  as  the  best 
way  to  finish  the  dispute. 

But  the  truth  was  otherwise.  The  real  story 
has  been  told  by  a  man  who  was  also  taken  pris- 
oner by  the  same  party  of  savages,  Standish  by 
name,  and  a  lineal  descendant  of  the  famous 
Miles  Standish,  of  Pilgrim  memory.  He  said 
that  he  was  carried  off  a  little  ways  from  the 
spring  and  pine  tree  alluded  to,  and  there  left  to 
himself  for  a  few  moments,  while  the  savages 
gathered  about  the  spring,  which  was  a  sort  of 
rendezvous  with  them.  Presently  he  saw  another 
party  of  Indians  coming  up  the  hill,  bringing 
along  their  youthful  prisoner.  He  knew  her  well, 
for  he  had  often  seen  her  at  Mrs.  O' Neil's  house. 
Not  many  minutes  after  the  second  party  came 
up,  a  dispute  arose  between  them  and  the  other 
party,  in  the  course  of  which  warm  words  were 
used,  and  excited  gestures  ;  and  at  last  they  fell 


166  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

to  belaboring  one  another  with  the  stocks  of  their 
muskets.  One  of  the  chiefs  seemed  to  be  in  a 
towering  rage,  so  that  he  could  not  control  him- 
self;  and  in  the  heat  of  it,  he  suddenly  stepped 
up  in  front  of  Miss  McRea,  presented  his  musket 
to  her  breast,  and  fired!  She  fell  dead  instantly. 
The  savage  then  drew  his  knife  and  look  off 
her  scalp  so  skilfully,  that  nearly  the  whole  of  her 
long  hair  came  with  it;  and  seizing  this  bloody 
trophy  in  one  hand,  he  sprang  up  and  shook  it  in 
the  face  of  the  rival  chief,  at  the  same  time  giv- 
ing a  yell  of  barbarous  delight.  After  this,  the 
quarrel  was  at  an  end;  and  the  Indians  hurried 
off  to  the  camp  where  General  Frazer  was,  fear- 
ing lest  they  might  be  overtaken  by  the  aroused 
Americans  below. 

When  the  body  of  Miss  McRea  was  found,  it 
was  pierced  with  several  wounds,  as  if  made  by 
a  knife.  Her  brother  was  informed  of  the  trans- 
action, and  immediately  came  up  from  below  and 
took  charge  of  her  corpse.  It  was  to  him  a  heavy 
blow  indeed ;  and  aroused  his  hatred  of  the  Brit- 
ish, who  could  employ  these  savages  in  their  war- 
fare, to  its  highest  pitch. 

The  feelings  of  the  hapless  lover,  on  first  be- 


!THE  NORTHER^  ARMY. 

holding  the  scalp  and  the  matchless  tresses  of 
young  Jenny,  it  is  not  possible  to  describe.  He 
secured  this  melancholy  relic  of  the  object  of  his 
devotion,  and,  with  such  a  strange  possession, 
settled  down  into  a  state  of  despondency  and 
gloom.  Some  aver  that  he  rushed  madly  into  the 
subsequent  battle  at  Bemis  Heights,  desirous  of 
throwing  away  a  life  that  had  become  already 
worse  than  worthless  to  him.  At  any  rate,  it  is 
known  that  he  not  long  after  left  the  army,  re- 
tired into  Canada,  and  lived  only  to  cherish  that 
dark  melancholy  into  which  this  horrible  tragedy 
so  suddenly  plunged  him.  He  became  an  old 
man,  never  marrying,  and  keeping  away  from 
society  altogether.  On  the  anniversary  of  this 
tragical  day,  which  came  in  July,  he  always  shut 
himself  in  his  room  from  the  observation  of  every 
one,  and  gave  himself  up  to  his  sorrowful  reflec- 
tions. He  was  never  known  to  allude  to  the  war 
afterwards. 

Jenny's  grave  is  still  to  be  seen  near  the  ruins 
at  Fort  Edward,  marked  by  a  plain  white  marble 
slab  about  three  feet  high,  with  nothing  but  the 
simple  inscription  —  JANE  McREA. 

This  murder  very  soon  did  its  legitimate  work. 


168  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

The  hearts  of  those  Americans  that  never  had 
been  moved  before  against  the  enemy,  were  now 
filled  with  indignation.  The  story  went  with  the 
wind ;  it  aroused  the  entire  northern  country  as 
no  other  appeal  could  have  done.  General  Gates 
addressed  a  letter  to  Burgoyne  on  the  subject, 
charging  home  upon  him  and  his  government 
these  most  barbarous  practices,  and  citing  many 
instances  where  equal  cruelty  had  been  employed 
with  his  knowledge  and  at  his  instigation.  Bur- 
goyne denied  the  whole  of  the  charges,  and  as- 
serted that  this  was  the  only  case  of  murder  that 
had  transpired ;  which  was  known  to  be  untrue. 
Edmund  Burke  told  the  harrowing  tale  in  elo- 
quent language,  in  the  British  House  of  Com- 
mons, and  it  very  soon  became  a  familiar  story 
throughout  Europe.  Burgoyne  dared  not  punish 
the  savage  who  was  proved  guilty  of  this  crime, 
for  the  rest  of  the  warriors  threatened,  in  case  he 
did,  to  desert  the  army  altogether. 

The  moment  Arnold  heard  of  these  incursions 
of  the  Indians,  he  detached  two  bodies  of  troops 
to  overtake  them  on  their  retreat ;  but  it  rained 
very  hard  after  they  began  their  march,  spoiling 
nearly  the  whole  of  their  ammunition,  and  oblig- 


THE   NORTHERN   ARMY.  169 

ing  thorn  to  fall  back  again.  It  is  not  1  lively,  how- 
ever, that  they  would  have  fallen  in  with  the 
Indians,  had  they  kept  on ;  for  the  latter  had 
made  as  swift  a  retreat  as  possible  to  the  camp 
of  their  scarcely  more  civilized  employers. 
15 


CHAPTER    VIM, 

THE   BATTLES   OP   BEMIS   HEIGHTS. 

ON  the  very  next  day  after  this  murder, 
Burgoyne  moved  his  army  down  and 
took  possession  of  Fort  Edward ;  Schuy- 
ler  withdrew  at  the  same  time  to  Stillwater. 
While  there,  Congress  took  action  on  the  qii<'>- 
tion  of  Arnold's  appointment;  they  voted  against 
his  promotion,  three  to  one.  He  was  both  morti- 
fied and  indignant  to  learn  the  result,  and  this 
was  the  first  decided  expression  they  had  given 
to  their  opinion  respecting  him.  He  instantly 
told  General  Schuyler  that  he  should  leave  the 
army ;  but  the  latter  persuaded  him  not  to  heed 
the  partisan  clamors  that  might  be  raised  against 
him,  but  to  lend  his  further  valuable  services  to 
his  country;  at  this  critical  juncture,  too,  they 
were  needed  more  than  ever. 

Then  came  the  news  from  the  westward,  that 


THE   BATTLES   Otf  BEMIS   HEIGHTS.  171 

St.  Leger  had  begun  his  march  from  Oswego,  and 
was  already  laying  siege  to  Fort  Schuyler,  while 
his  Indians  and  Tories  were  devastating  the  val- 
ley. Only  a  handful  of  men  held  the  fort;  Her- 
kimer  had  been  defeated  at  the  battle  of  Oriskany, 
only  eight  miles  off —  a  bloody  battle,  in  which 
the  brave  old  man  showed  the  heroic  stuff  of 
which  his  nature  was  made  ;  and  right  upon  all, 
an  order  was  sent  on  from  Congress,  superseding 
Schuyler  in  his  command  with  General  Gates. 
The  history  of  this  last  transaction  would  take  us 
too  much  out  of  our  way  just  at  this  time  ;  it  is 
enough  to  say  of  it,  that  it  was  the  most  unfortu- 
nate thing  that  could  have  happened  to  an  army, 
now,  if  ever,  needing  all  possible  strength  and 
harmony  within  its  own  ranks. 

Schuyler,  therefore,  had  a  chance  to  practice 
the  same  virtue  of  submission  to  which  he  had 
so  earnestly  urged  Arnold.  He  wrote  to  a  friend 
in  Congress  on  the  subject,  —  "I  am  incapable 
of  sacrificing  my  country  to  a  resentment,  how- 
ever just ;  and  I  trust  I  shall  give  an  example  of 
what  a  good  citizen  ought  to  do  when  he  is  in  my 
situation.  " 

He  looked  at  Fort  Schuyler,  and  saw  that  its 


172  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

fall  would  be  the  signal  for  indiscriminate  mur 
der  and  rapine  through  the  valley ;  and  lie  deter- 
mined to  send  forward  a  force  to  the  relief  of  the 
garrison.  His  officers  in  council  opposed  the 
plan,  knowing  1  hat  they  were  themselves  none  too 
strong,  with  Burgoyne  approaching  from  the 
north ;  and  one  of  them  whispered  that  he  meant 
to  weaken  the  army.  He  was  pacing  the  floor 
and  smoking  his  pipe,  at  the  moment,  and  over- 
heard the  slander.  Instantly  he  turned  upon  his 
officers,  biting  the  stem  of  his  pipe  in  several 
pieces  as  he  did  so,  and  said,  — "  Gentlemen,  I 
shall  take  the  responsibility  upon  myself!  Where 
is  the  brigadier  that  will  take  command  of  the 
relief  ?  I  shall  beat  up  for  volunteers  to-mor- 
row. " 

Arnold  was  the  man  for  the  service,  and  he 
stepped  forth  and  volunteered  to  take  the  com- 
mand. At  drum  beat  the  next  morning,  August 
16th,  a  force  of  eight  hundred  men  was  collected, 
ready  to  march  to  the  relief  of  their  beleaguered 
comrades.  The  fort  was  finally  saved,  and  saved 
through  nothing  but.  the  sagacity  and  generalship 
of  Arnold  ;  he  sent  forward,  first,  a  worthless  re- 
fugee, with  several  bullet  holes  in  his  coat,  to 


THE   BATTLES    OP   EEMIS   ^EIGHTS.  178 

make  St.  Leger  believe  that  he  had  barely  escaped 
hanging  for  being  taken  as  a  spy ;  he  was  also 
employed  to  tell  St.  Leger  that  Arnold  was  ap- 
proaching with  an  army  of  over  two  thousand 
men.  Others  were  sent  forward  directly  after 
him,  who  communicated  precisely  the  same  false 
intelligence.  Believing  it  to  be  true,  St.  Leger 
made  as  rapid  a  retreat  as  he  could.  He  tried  to 
keep  the  Indians  orderly,  but  it  was  an  idle  en- 
deavor. They  stole  the  liquors  of  the  officers, 
became  intoxicated,  and  acted  out  their  savage 
natures.  St.  Leger  broke  up  his  camp  in  the 
greatest  haste  at  noon,  leaving  his  tents  still 
standing,  and  relinquishing  all  his  artillery  and 
the  most  of  his  ammunition  and  stores  to  the 
Americans.  Panic  reigned  alone. 

As  soon  as  the  news  of  this  most  timely  suc- 
cess reached  the  ears  of  Schuyler,  he  rejoiced  be- 
yond measure.  Washington  heard  of  it  with 
undisguised  satisfaction.  The  effect  was  unmis- 
takable. The  battle  of  Bennington  had  just  been 
fought  by  brave  old  General  Stark,  who  told  his 
men  in  the  morning  that  the  red-coats  must  be 
theirs  before  night,  or  Molly  Stark  "  would  be  a 
widow,"  —  and  the  result  was  received  by  the 
15* 


174  BEJJEDICT  ARNOLD. 

country  with  the  greatest  delight.  Those  who 
were  indifferent  towards  the  American  cause 
before,  came  eagerly  into  the  ranks  of  the  patriots 
now,  swelling  the  army  around  Saratoga  to  a 
very  effective  number.  A  new  energy  seemed  to 
have  been  suddenly  infused  into  all  minds ;  when 
as  if  some  dark  fate  was  in  it,  General  Gates 
arrived  in  the  carnp  and  took  from  General 
Schuyler  the  entire  command.  This  was  one  of 
those  steps  taken  by  Congress  at  a  critical  period 
in  our  revolutionary  history,  which  always  seem 
at  such  times  to  come  in  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
fusing all  previous  arrangements. 

Schuyler  accepted  his  subordinate  position 
without  a  murmur.  His  conduct  at  that  time 
stamped  him  a  greater  hero  than  even  his  courage 
in  the  trials  and  risks  of  hostile  encounters. 
Gates,  however,  was  a  very  different  man.  He 
came  and  found  his  work  all  blocked  out  for  him. 
As  another  writer  has  observed,  everything  was 
ready  for  the  sickle  to  be  put  into  the  harvest 
when  he  arrived  in  the  camp.  His  letters  to  the 
commander-in-chief  show  ho\v  large  was  the 
measure  of  his  self-conceit,  and  how  delighted  he 
was  to  find  a  splendid  victory  nearly  ready  to  his 
hand. 


THE   BATTLES    OF   BEMIS   ^EIGHTS.  175 

General  Arnold  retraced  his  steps,  after  Fort 
Schuyler  was  relieved,  towards  the  Hudson.  He 
took  the  command  of  the  left  wing  of  the  army, 
which  was  posted  at  London's  Ferry,  on  the  south 
bank  of  the  Mohawk,  about  five  miles  distant  from 
where  it  joins  the  Hudson.  This  position  was 
chosen  in  order  to  check  Burgoyne,  should  he 
attempt  to  cross  the  Mohawk  and  push  down  to 
Albany.  But  the  battle  of  Bennington  on  the 
east,  and  the  loss  of  Fort  Schuyler  on  the  west, 
together  with  the  defection  of  numbers  of  his 
Indians  just  at  this  juncture,  made  it  necessary 
for  him  to  be  cautious  and  remain  where  he  now 
was  at  Fort  Edward.  Crowds  were  flocking  to 
the  American  standard.  In  particular,  the  story 
of  the  Jane  McRea  tragedy  had  a  wonderful 
influence  in  raising  up  an  indignant  population 
to  join  against  a  cause  that  employed  such  base 
and  cruel  agencies  to  secure  its  success. 

Gates  now  advanced  up  the  Hudson  to  Still- 
water,  and  resolved  to  fortify  there ;  but  the  Pol- 
ish officer  Kosciusko  advised  him  to  retire  upon 
Bemis  Heights  and  fortify  that  place,  which  he 
finally  did.  Here  the  Hudson  is  very  narrow, 
the  valley  is  of  trifling  width,  and  the  hill  on  th« 


176  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

west  is  extremely  abrupt  and  well  calculated 
for  a  strong  defence.  A  line  of  breast-works 
about  three-fourths  of  a  mile  long  were  therefore 
stretched  along  the  brow  of  the  hill,  with  batter- 
ies at  the  extremities  and  the  centre ;  these  swept 
the  entire  valley.  An  iritrenchmcnt  was  likewise 
thrown  up  from  the  foot  of  the  hill  across  the 
flats  to  the  river;  at  this  point  was  a  floating 
bridge,  made  to  swing  around  with  the  tide  if 
necessary,  which  was  protected  by  a  battery. 
Half  a  mile  above,  another  battery  with  breast- 
works was  erected  near  a  small  stream  called 
Mill  Creek  ;  and  this  was  the  extent  of  the  Amer- 
can  fortifications. 

Matters  continued  comparatively  quiet  until 
the  middle  of  September.  General  Lincoln  had 
been  making  demonstrations  to  Burgoyne's  rear, 
which  quickened  the  resolution  of  the  British 
general  very  materially ;  he  saw  that  he  was 
liable  to  be  cut  off  from  his  connection  with  the 
lakes  if  he  remained  long  where  he  was,  and  he 
therefore  made  up  his  mind  to  move  forward  and 
open  the  contemplated  communication  with  the 
South.  He  did  not  so  much  as  call  a  council  of 
officers,  fearing  they  would  advise  to  a  retreat 


THE    BATTLES    OP    BEMIS    HEIGHTS.  177 

rather  than  an  advance.  On  the  13th  and  14th, 
he  crossed  the  Hudson  ;  on  the  15th,  he  moved 
down  to  Do-ve-gat ;  and  on  the  18th,  he  moved 
still  further  down  to  Wilbur's  Basin,  only  two 
miles  from  the  American  camp.  Here  he  made 
ready  for  the  conflict  of  the  next  day. 

It  was  a  still  and  cloudless  morning,  —  that  of 
the  19th  of  September,  —  and  the  ground  was 
white  with  the  heavy  autumn  frost.  Each  army 
could  hear  the  roll  of  the  other's  drums,  calling  to 
the  reveille.  They  both  lay  extended  over  the 
hills,  stretching  westward  from  the  Hudson,  and 
were  in  fact  face  to  face  with  each  other.  Gates 
resolved  to  run  no  hazard,  but  to  act  strictly  on 
the  defensive.  Burgoyne  was  all  ready  to  com- 
mence the  attack.  He  had  planned  it  that  the 
Canadians  and  Indians  in  his  camp  should  assail 
the  American  centre,  while  himself  and  Fraser 
were  to  make  a  wide  circuit  and  unite  their  forces 
in  the  American  rear.  Their  union  was  to  be 
made  known  by  the  firing  of  three  signal  guns ; 
on  hearing  which  the  artillery  was  to  assail  the 
American  front  and  right,  cut  their  way  through, 
and  scatter  and  destroy  them  as  they  went. 

The  interval  between  the  two  camps  was  irreg- 


178  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

nlar  on  its  surface,  and  mostly  hidden  with  forest 
trees;  so  that  fighting  was  not  the  work  it  would 
be  on  an  open  plain.  The  bright  uniforms  and 
glittering  bayonets  of  the  British  troops  were 
seen  through  the  forest  vistas  at  an  early  hour  in 
the  morning,  as  they  began  to  advance  to  their 
work.  Gates  was  informed  from  time  to  time 
of  their  motions,  but  he  made  no  movement  in 
return  himself.  It  got  to  be  ten  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  the  whole  British  army  was  reported 
to  be  coming  on,  in  three  divisions;  one  on  the 
river  road  to  the  east,  one  around  the  west,  and 
the  third  against  the  centre.  Still  Gates  was 
quiet  and  unmoved  at  his  quarters  in  the  farm- 
house. 

Arnold's  spirit  chafed  beyond  control.  He  had 
command  of  the  left  wing  of  the  army,  as  before 
stated.  It  galled  him  beyond  description  to 
know  that  the  enemy  were  coming  up,  but  no 
orders  issued  as  yet  from  the  commanding  gen- 
eral. He  kept  sending  most  urgent  messages  to 
Gates  all  through  the  morning  hours, -describing 
the  movements  and  position  of  the  enemy,  and 
declaring  that  it  was  certain  ruin  to  allow  them 
to  advance  further,  without  opposition.  Finally 


THE    BATTLES    OF    BEMIS    HEIGHTS.  179 

Gates  gave  way  before  his  hot  importunity,  and 
the  advice  of  Arnold  was  carried  into  effect.  It 
was  about  half-past  two  in  the  afternoon.  Mor- 
gan, at  the  head  of  his  famous  riflemen,  made  an 
impetuous  assault  upon  the  Canadians  and  In- 
dians in  the  ravine,  and  charged  with  such  resist- 
less fury  that  his  men  were  scattered  in  all  direc- 
tions in  the  woods,  and  he  suddenly  found  him-i 
self  almost  entirely  alone!  He  sounded  his  shrill 
Avhistle  in  a  moment,  however,  and  his  gallant 
riflemen  came  flocking  back  to  his  support; 
whereupon  he  charged  again,  carrying  all  before 
him. 

There  was  also  a  severe  skirmish  going  on  at 
the  same  time  between  the  American  pickets  and 
detachments  of  the  enemy  on  the  margin  of  the 
flats  near  the  river.  Burgoyne  and  Fraser  like- 
wise moved  rapidly  forward  to  attack  the  Ameri- 
cans in  front  and  on  the  left  flank.  Fraser  tried 
to  turn  the  latter,  and  Arnold  saw  the  movement 
and  made  a  vigorous  assault  on  Fraser's  right ; 
Arnold  found  the  position  too  strong,  however,  to 
l)e  carried  with  what  force  he  had,  and  sent  a 
despatch  to  Gates  asking  for  reinforcements ;  but 
the  latter  refused,  declaring  that  he  "  could  not 


180  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

suffer  his  camp  to  be  exposed."  He  waited  for 
nothing  more ;  but  dashed  on  and  made  a  coun- 
ter-movement to  turn  Eraser's  left.  This  of 
course  brought  him  face  to  face  with  the  main 
line  of  the  British  army ;  and  he  fought  at  this 
crisis  with  a  courage  and  headlong  impetuosity 
that  could  not  but  be  resistless.  For  a  brief 
space  of  time,  it  seemed  as  if  he  would  cut  the 
wings  of  that  proud  army  in  twain. 

The  British  dragoons  under  the  German  Baron 
Reidesel  came  up  at  this  juncture,  and  so  did  a 
detachment  of  artillery  under  Phillips,  dragging 
their  heavy  pieces  along  through  the  woods  as  last 
as  they  could.  Arnold,  too,  was  reinforced  with 
four  fresh  regiments.  The  British  were  already 
beginning  to  yield,  so  furious  was  the  assault  of 
Arnold's  division ;  but  they  were  just  saved  by 
the  timely  approach  of  the  artillery  and  tin- 
heavy  dragoons.  Victory  was  thus  snatched 
from  the  hands  that  were  stretched  out,  ready  to 
grasp  it. 

The  conflict  from  that  time  continued  without 
interruption.  The  whole  of  the  British  right 
wing  was  engaged.  Hand  to  hand  almost  they 
fought,  eager  to  vanquish  the  enemy  they  had  so 


THE   BATTLES    OF   BEMIS   HEIGHTS.  181 

long  waited  to  engage.  For  four  long  hours 
during  that  September  afternoon,  they  kept  it 
up;  now  one  side  advancing,  and  now  the  other* 
Morgan  did  terribly  destructive  service  on  the 
British  with  his  sharp-shooters,  having  the  wood 
to  cover  them.  Burgoyne  ordered  his  troops  to 
clear  the  woods  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  and 
they  undertook  the  task.  Each  dash  of  the  hos- 
tile wave,  as  it  struck  against  the  American  posi- 
tion, was  at  once  scattered  harmless  over  the 
intervening  plain.  The  Americans  held  their 
post  with  dogged  resolution  ;  from  that  it  seemed 
impossible  to  drive  them. 

Our  division  rested  on  one  hill-side,  and  the 
British  on  another  opposite ;  the  contest  lay  be- 
tween. While  the  Americans  fought  from  their 
own  position,  they  fought  successfully;  but  when- 
ever they  made  a  sally  on  the  other  hillside,  they 
did  so  only  to  retreat  at  length  to  their  old  post 
again.  The  two  armies  were  so  near,  that  in  the 
lulls  of  the  battle  the  Americans  could  distinctly 
hear  the  word  of  command  passed  along  down 
the  enemy's  lines.  The  fighting  continued  like 
the  ebb  and  flow  of  a  surging  sea,  with  scarcely 
any  rest  or  interruption.  Not  until  the  sun  went 


182  L'EXKDICT    ARNOLD. 

down  at  night  did  the  booming  of  the  cannon 
and  llic  (rack  of  the  musketry  cease  their  echoes 
between  these  peaceful  hills.  The  Americans 
retired  within  their  lines,  and  the  British  lay  on 
their  arms  on  the  field  of  battle. 

Though  this  was  not  a  rout  for  the  enemy,  it 
was  a  victory  for  the  Americans ;  for  the  former 
were  checked  in  their  advance,  and  their  entire 
plan  of  battle  was  broken  up.  They  tried  to 
assail  the  position  of  the  main  body  of  the  Amer- 
icans, but  found  it  could  not  be  done.  If  this 
was  not  defeat,  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  what 
is.  The  loss  of  the  Americans  in  this  engage 
incut  was  about  three  hundred;  that  of  the  Brit- 
ish about  five  hundred.  The  maiming  and 
wounding  was  terrible  to  contemplate. 

Had  Gates  seconded  Arnold  cordially  in  this 
memorable  battle,  the  enemy  would  have  been 
totally  vanquished ;  but  it  was  believed  that  the 
former  did  not  intend  to  oppose  Burgoyne  at  all, 
until  Arnold  absolutely  compelled  him  to  it. 
Gates  did  all  he  could,  through  his  adjutant,  to 
cripple  Arnold's  forces,  and  the  latter  General 
found  himself  more  than  once  issuing  orders  dur- 
ing the  battle  which  his  superior  countermanded! 


THE   BATTLES   OF   BEMIS   HEIGHTS.  183 

Few  men  but  Arnold  could  have  accomplished 
what  he  did  under  such  circumstances.  Gates 
also  showed  his  jealousy  of  Arnold's  reputation 
in  another  way,  which  was  still  more  noticeable ; 
he  refused,  in  writing  his  despatches  to  Congress, 
to  mention  the  name  of  Arnold  at  all  in  what  he 
had  to  say  of  the  battle,  but  merely  stated  that 
"the  action  was  fought  by  detachments  from  the 
army. " 

Of  course  there  could  be  no  concert  of  action, 
when  it  was  most  needed,  too,  with  such  a  state 
of  feeling  between  the  general  officers.  Arnold 
sought  Gates,  and  told  him  plainly  what  he 
thought  of  his  meanness  in  leaving  him  out  of 
his  despatches  to  Congress,  and  insisted  that  it 
not  only  did  himself  a  wrong,  but  it  was  a  greater 
wrong  to  the  brave  troops  that  had  so  successfully 
fought  the  battle.  Gates  had  a  high  temper,  as 
well  as  high  self-esteem ;  they  exchanged  angry 
words,  such  as  men  never  like  to  recall  after- 
wards, and  parted  in  the  heat  of  their  passion  5 
Gates  twitted  Arnold  with  having  resigned  his 
office  already,  and  said  that  he  could  claim  no 
military  standing  whatever;  he  further  assured 
him  that  he  was  of  no  sort  of  use  in  the  army, 


184  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

and  might  go  home  whenever  he  wanted  to ;  also 
that  General  Lincoln  would  take  his  command  aa 
soon  as  he  arrived  in  camp. 

Arnold  demanded  his  pass  to  go  and  join 
Washington.  It  was  at  once  granted  him,  and 
he  prepared  to  leave  the  camp ;  but  after  his  pas- 
sion cooled  down,  he  saw  what  an  imputation 
might  be  cast  on  him  if  he  deserted  the  army  just 
before  another  battle  was  coming  on,  and  he 
therefore  resolved  to  remain  a  little  longer  where 
he  was.  But  he  need  not  have  had  any  concern 
about  his  reputation  ;  for  Burgoyne  himself,  after 
his  surrender,  told  at  Albany,  even  in  the  presence 
of  Gates,  that  Arnold  was  a  wonderfully  brave 
man  and  an  active  officer. 

From  the  20th  of  September  till  the  7th  of  Oc- 
tober, the  hostile  armies  were  industriously  en- 
gaged in  strengthening  their  respective  positions. 
General  Lincoln  joined  the  army  on  the  29th,  and 
took  command  of  the  right  wing,  Gates  himself 
assuming  the  command  of  the  left ;  so  that  Arnold 
was  deprived  of  all  place  and  authority  whatever. 

Sir  Henry  Clinton  was  trying  to  force  his  way 
up  the  Hudson  from  below,  and  managed  to  get 
word  to  Burgoyne  that  he  should  attack  Forts 


THE   BATTLES    OF   BEMIS   HEIGHTS.  185 

Clinton  and  Montgomery  on  the  20th.  The  lat- 
ter, therefore,  felt  encouraged  that  by  delaying  a 
little  he  should  finally  be  able  to  unite  his  forces 
with  those  advancing  up  the  river.  The  two 
armies  lay  almost  in  parallel  lines,  and  within 
cannon  shot  of  each  other.  Day  after  day  passed, 
and  yet  no  tidings  came  to  Burgoyne  from  Clin- 
ton. On  the  1st  of  October,  he  was  compelled 
to  put  his  soldiers  on  short  allowance ;  his  own 
stores  were  diminishing  rapidly,  and  nothing  in 
the  shape  of  provisions  was  allowed  to  reach  him. 
The  American  ranks  were  filling  up  every  day, 
the  farmers  flocking  to  the  patriot  standard  from 
all  the  country  round. 

Burgoyne  tried  two  or  three  times  to  send  word 
to  Clinton,  telling  him  what  a  condition  he  was 
in ;  but  he  never  received  a  syllable  from  Clinton 
in  return.  He  knew  himself  that  he  could  not 
hold  out  where  he  was  longer  than  the  12th,  and 
at  length  he  came  to  his  determination.  One  of 
two  things  he  must  do,  and  that  without  much 
more  delay ;  he  must  either  advance  and  fight,  or 
retreat  in  disgrace.  One  alternative  seemed  just 
as  dangerous  as  the  other,  for  the  Americans  were 
now  both  on  his  front  and  his  rear. 
16* 


186  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

At  a  little  after  two  o'clock,  therefore,  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  7th,  he  opened  the  conflict;  in- 
asmuch as  Gates  declined  to  take  the  initiative, 
he  resolved  to  wait  no  longer,  but  to  take  it  him- 
self. The  British  army  was  all  arranged  with 
consummate  skill,  so  as  to  take  advantage  of 
every  favorable  turn  of  the  approaching  battle. 
General  Fraser  —  who  was  on  that  day  the  soul 
of  the  British  army,  was  stationed  in  advance  of 
their  right  wing,  with  a  force  of  five  hundred 
picked  men,  to  fall  upon  the  American  flank  the 
moment  the  attack  was  made  on  their  front 
Morgan  saw  the  design,  and  suggested  to  Gates 
that  another  force  should  be  sent  around  to  fall 
upon  the  flank  of  Fraser,  as  soon  as  the  assault 
was  made  on  the  British  left  Gates  thereupon 
sent  Morgan  himself,  with  his  irresistible  riflemen, 
to  do  the  work ;  and  he  set  off  to  occupy  the 
heights  on  the  enemy's  extreme  right  Wilkin- 
son, his  adjutant,  brought  in  reports  of  the  posi- 
tion of  the  British  right,  left,  and  centre,  and 
Gates  now  thought  the  battle  might  as  well 
begin  in  good  earnest 

The  American  troops  under  Poor  marched 
steadily  up  the  hill  to  the  British  right,  took  their 


THE   BATTLES   OF   BEMIS   HEIGHTS.  187 

fire  in  silence,  and  then  rushed  on  to  the  assault 
Again  and  again  they  dashed  up  to  the  field 
pieces,  captured  and  lost  them  alternately,  and 
finally  held  and  turned  them  with  deadly  effect 
agains  the  ranks  of  the  enemy.  At  the  same 
moment  with  this  attack,  the  sharp  crack  of  rifles 
was  suddenly  heard  on  the  British  right,  and  Bur- 
goyne  was  filled  with  astonishment. 

Gates  remained  at  his  head-quarters,  and  did 
not  go  upon  the  field  at  all.  Arnold,  as  we  have 
stated  already,  had  no  command.  But  the  mo- 
ment the  firing  began,  his  impetuous  nature  re- 
fused control.  It  was  a  new  thing  for  him  to 
remain  quiet,  while  the  thunder  of  British  guns 
was  sounding  in  his  ears.  He  tried  to  be  calm, 
but  it  was  in  vain.  All  the  old  feelings  of  indig- 
nation at  thinking  of  the  way  in  which  he  had 
been  treated,  came  up  freshly  in  his  heart.  He 
chafed  like  a  hound  in  the  leash.  Not  a  syllable 
reached  him  from  Gates  all  this  while,  as  if  the 
latter  neither  knew  nor  cared  that  he  was  in  the 
camp.  It  was  for  just  this  conflict  that  he  had 
thought  better  of  his  former  resolution,  and  con- 
cluded to  stay  where  he  was  ;  and  now  to  let  it  all 
come  and  go  without  lifting  a  hand  for  his  coun- 


188  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

try,  was  something  to  which  he  could  not  recon- 
cile himself. 

Springing  upon  the  back  of  his  large  brown 
mare,  he  dashed  off  at  a  headlong  pace,  to  join 
the  force  under  General  Poor  on  the  left,  and 
soon  showed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  line. 
The  soldiers  knew  him  as  he  rode  up  in  such  hot 
haste,  and  received  him  with  shouts  which  the 
British  could  not  understand.  Gates  saw  him  at 
the  moment  he  dashed  out  of  camp,  and  des- 
patched his  aid-de-camp,  Major  Armstrong,  to 
bring  hirn  back  ;  "  he'll  do  some  rash  thing ! "  said 
he.  Arnold  caught  sight  of  Armstrong,  and  knew 
his  errand ;  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  therefore, 
and  kept  the  latter  on  a  wild  and  fruitless  chase 

after  him  for  more  than  half  an  hour. 

t 

Being  the  superior  officer  on  the  field,  his  direc- 
tions were  followed  all  through  the  battle.  He 
rode  with  lightning  speed  up  and  down  the  lines, 
throwing  himself  into  the  very  jaws  of  death,  as 
if  he  was  willing  on  that  day  to  become  a  sacri- 
fice. His  horse  was  covered  with  foam,  and 
seemed  to  partake  of  the  fiery  desperation  of  its 
rider.  Again  and  again  he  led  the  troops  on  to 
the  charge,  attacking  the  Hessians  in  the  centre 


THE  BATTLES  OP  BEMIS  HEIGHTS.     189 

with  such  fury  that  their  solid  lines  wavered  and 
finally  gave  way.  He  brandished  his  sword 
about  his  head  like  a  glittering  flame.  His  shouts 
and  cries  imparted  to  the  troops  a  great  share  of 
his  own  madness.  The  frenzy  that  possessed 
him,  many  of  the  soldiers  declared  they  had  never 
before  seen  equalled  by  mortal  man.  So  uncon- 
trollable was  his  excitement,  he  struck  an  officer 
over  the  head  during  the  battle,  wounding  him 
very  severely ;  and  when  told  of  it  afterwards,  he 
declared  that  he  was  not  aware  of  having  done 
anything  of  the  kind.  It  was  said  that  he  was 
intoxicated ;  but  there  is  not  the  slightest  ground 
for  such  a  rumor  to  rest  upon.  The  story  origi- 
nated with  Wilkinson,  and  he  certainly  had  reason 
enough  to  feel  jealous  of  Benedict  Arnold  for  that 
memorable  day's  work. 

At  the  same  time  that  Arnold  was  dashing  his 
impetuous  columns  against  the  enemy's  left  and 
centre,  Morgan  and  his  riflemen  were  making 
great  havoc-  on  the  extreme  right.  General 
Fraser  was  the  leading  spirit  there,  and  kept  the 
fiery  American  soldiery  at  bay.  He  was  mounted 
on  a  splendid  iron  grey  horse,  and  equipped  in  his 
showy  uniform  ;  and  Morgan's  sharp-shooters 


190  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

could  not  fail  to  be  attracted  to  so  conspicuous  a 
mark.  Morgan  saw  that  on  him  alone  depended 
the  fortune  of  that  part  of  the  field,  if  not  the 
fate  of  the  day ;  and  he  ordered  one  of  his  best 
marksman,  Timothy  Murphy  by  name,  to  take 
his  stand  and  pick  him  off!  It  may  seem  cold- 
blooded and  even  cruel,  in  the  narration ;  but  it 
nevertheless  belongs  to  the  bloody  practices  of 
war.  Murphy  climbed  up  into  a  tree,  and  from 
his  high  perch  took  a  more  deliberate  aim.  The 
first  ball  cut  his  horse's  crupper;  the  second 
grazed  his  mane.  His  aid  came  up  to  him  and 
said,  —  "  It  is  evident  that  you  are  singled  out, 
General,  by  the  enemy's  marksmen ;  you  had 
better  change  your  ground. "  "  My  duty  forbids 
me  to  fly  from  danger, "  was  his  reply.  In  five 
minutes  he  fell  from  his  horse,  a  bullet  having 
been  shot  through  his  body.  He  was  carried  oft' 
by  a  couple  of  grenadiers  to  the  camp. 

The  moment  the  British  saw  their  gallant 
leader  fall,  a  panic  spread  all  along  the  line.  A 
large  reinforcement  of  New  York  troops  came  up 
at  this  time,  which  encouraged  the  Americans 
wonderfully.  Burgoyne  saw  the  critical  condi- 
tion of  affairs,  and  rushed  forward  to  take  the 


THE    BATTLES    OF    BEMIS    HEIGHTS. 

command  in  person.  But  it  was  too  late.  Even 
the  presence  of  their  commander  could  not  revive 
the  courage  of  the  already  panic-stricken  and  dis- 
heartened British  troops.  In  vain  he  exerted 
himself  to  hold  them  to  the  terrible  work;  they 
gave  way  in  solid  column,  and  broke  and  fled 
within  their  intrenchments  with  all  the  eager 
haste  of  fear.  A  detachment  under  Phillips  and 
the  German  baron,  Reidesel,  covered  their  con- 
fused retreat  as  well  as  they  could,  and  barely 
saved  them  from  utter  annihilation. 

Arnold,  on  finding  the  victory  within  the  grasp 
of  the  Americans,  determined  to  pursue  every 
advantage.  He  put  himself  at  the  head  of  his 
troops  and  led  them  on  to  a  vigorous  assault 
upon  the  camp  itself.  There  was  thus  a  very 
fierce  and  bloody  fight  at  the  enemy's  intrench- 
ments, which  Arnold  tried  to  carry  at  the  point 
of  the  bayonet ;  but  they  were  defended  too  well 
to  be  taken  by  a  force  without  artillery,  and  other- 
wise placed  at  a  disadvantage. 

Like  a  flash,  therefore,  Arnold  wheeled  his 
foaming  horse  towards  the  right  flank  of  the  Brit- 
ish camp,  and,  with  but  a  handful  of  men  behind 
him?  undertook  to  force  his  way  into  a  sally-port1, 


192  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

the  Hessians  deserted  it,  leaving  the  British  camp 
badly  exposed.  A  shot  at  that  moment  killed 
the  faithful  horse  of  Arnold,  and  again  wounded 
the  leg  that  had  before  been  shattered  with  a 
bullet  at  Quebec.  He  was  carried  off  the  field, 
but  not  until  victory  was  assured  to  the  Ameri- 
cans. That  was  decisive  and  complete. 

Night  now  began  to  settle  down  upon  the  bloody 
work  of  that  autumn  afternoon.  The  British  re- 
mained quiet  within  their  camp,  and  the  Ameri- 
cans lay  on  their  arms  upon  the  field,  prepared  to 
renew  the  battle  at  the  earliest  hour  of  the  morn- 
ing. The  scenes  that  occurred  on  that  day  and 
the  next,  are  affecting  in  the  extreme.  Wounded 
soldiers,  dying  officers,  delicate  ladies,  just  now 
bereaved  of  their  husbands,  —  there  are  pathetic 
stories  in  plenty  about  these,  in  the  British  camp, 
that  make  one  lament  with  all  the  more  sadness 
the  terrors  and  cruelty  of  war* 

Burgoyne  took  advantage  of  the  night  to 
change  his  position,  retreating  a  mile  to  the 
north.  The  Americans  in  the  morning  occupied 
his  abandoned  camp.  Burgoyne  evidently  meant 
to  make  the  best  of  his  way  back  to  Fort  Ed- 
ward ;  but  Gates  had  laid  all  his  plans  to  head  him 


THE   BATTLES    OF   BEMIS    HEIGHTS.  193 

off,  and  compel  the  surrender  the  latter  so  much 
dreaded ;  accordingly,  he  despatched  a  force  over 
to  the  high  grounds  on  the  east  side  of  the  Hud- 
son, and  another  still  farther  up  towards  Lake 
George. 

Burgoyne  began  his  retreat  in  the  night,  and 
continued  it  slowly  through  the  whole  of  the  next 
day.  It  rained  continually,  making  the  roads  ex- 
tremely difficult  to  travel.  At  evening  he  came 
to  Saratoga.  He  could  get  no  farther;  it  was 
still  raining ;  and  the  soldiers  had  to  lie  down  in 
their  soaked  clothes,  the  rain  still  falling  upon 
them,  and  catch  such  sleep  as  they  could.  They 
were  exhausted,  and  could  hold  out  against  nature 
no  longer. 

Again  Burgoyne  moved  backwards,  and  began 
to  fortify  ;  but  the  Americans  were  swarming  all 
around  him.  They  cut  him  off  alike  at  the  fords 
and  the  bridges.  He  could  get  no  word  from  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  below,  and  his  own  provisions 
would  hold  out  but  three  days  longer.  He  called 
a  council  of  war  in  this  emergency,  to  see  what 
was  best  to  be  done.  Negotiations  were  imme- 
diately opened  with  General  Gates,  and  con- 
tinued for  several  days.  While  Burgoyne  and 
1? 


194  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

his  officers  were  consulting  what  step  it  was  b«-.->f 
to  take,  an  eighteen  pound  cannon-ball  tore 
through  the  tent  and  drove  across  the  table  at 
which  the  council  were  sitting. 

The  papers  being  all  prepared,  and  signatures 
exchanged,  on  the  17th  of  October  the  British 
surrendered  to  the  Americans,  on  the  plain  in 
front  of  old  Fort  Hardy,  —  a  fort  thrown  up  by 
Dieskau  in  1755.  Gates  had,  with  a  true  sense 
of  delicacy,  ordered  his  army  within  their  line*; 
so  that  when  the  enemy  marched  down  on  the 
plain,  formed  into  parallel  lines,  grounded  their 
arms,  and  emptied  their  cartridge  boxes,  not  an 
American  soldier  was  to  be  seen.  The  only  of- 
ficer who  witnessed  the  transaction,  was  Wilkin- 
son, the  adjutant. 

Burgoyne  then  'wished  to  be  introduced  to 
General  Gates.  His  staff  accompanied  him. 
Gates  and  his  officers  met  him  at  the  head  of  the 
American  camp.  Burgoyne  was  in  full  uniform, 
shining  with  scarlet  and  gold ;  Gates  wore  only 
a  plain  blue  frock-coat.  Wilkinson  presented 
the  gentlemen,  each  to  the  other,  as  soon  as  they 
reined  up.  "  The  fortune  of  war,  General  Gates, 
has  made  me  your  prisoner, "  said  Burgoyne.  "  I 


THE    BATTLES    OF    BEMIS    HEIGHTS.  195 

shall  always  be  ready  to  bear  testimony,"  an- 
swered Gates,  "  that  it  has  not  been  through  any 
fault  of  your  excellency."  After  these  ceremonies 
were  over,  all  the  gentlemen  went  to  Gates's  head- 
quarters, —  an  old  farm-house  now  standing,  —  . 
and  sat  down  to  a  bountiful  dinner. 

Burgoyne  was  a  large  man,  while  Gates  was 
much  smaller,  and  wore  spectacles.  The  former 
stepped  backwards  when  he  surrendered,  and 
presented  the  hilt  of  his  sword  to  Gates ;  who 
took  it  into  his  hand,  and  immediately  returned 
it  to  his  captive  again. 

The  Americans  gained  a  fine  train  of  brass 
artillery  by  this  event,  together  with  about  seven 
thousand  stand  of  arms,  much  clothing,  a  quan- 
tity of  tents,  and  military  stores.  The  van- 
quished army  afterwards  passed  between  the 
columns  of  the  Americans,  who  were  drawn  up 
for  the  purpose,  and,  with  an  American  flag  at 
their  head,  were  marched  off'  under  a  proper 
escort  three  hundred  miles  to  ^Boston.  There 
they  took  vessels  and  returned  to  England,  hav- 
ing engaged  to  serve  no  more  during  the  war. 

Arnold  was  carried  to  Albany  after  ihe  battle 
he  had  himself  chiefly  won,  it  being  discovered 


196  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

that  the  bone  of  his  leg  was  badly  fractured; 
that  leg  seemed  to  be  a  very  unfortunate  one. 
Here  he  remained  during  the  entire  winter,  shut 
up  closely  in  his  room.  Though  he  had  no  com- 
mand on  the  7th  of  October,  yet  his  was  the 
controlling  spirit  of  that  memorable  battle.  He 
led  the  troops  up  to  victory  himself;  while  Gates, 
it  is  said,  was  in  the  house  he  made  his  head- 
quarters, discussing  idle  questions  with  Bur- 
goyne's  aid-de-camp,  who  had  been  wounded 
and  taken  prisoner!  To  Benedict  Arnold,  aided 
by  the  gallant  Colonel  Morgan,  was  mainly  due 
the  success  of  that  most  important  day  in  Amer- 
can  history. 


CHAPTER     IX. 

ARNOLD  AT  PHILADELPHIA. 

AFTER  all  this,  there  would  have  been 
less  excuse  than  ever  for  Congress  to 
refuse  to  do  justice  to  Arnold;  and  they 
directed  Washington  to  give  him  the  full  rank  to 
which  he  was  entitled.  The  commander-in-chief 
accompanied  the  act  with  a  friendly  letter,  in 
which  he  expressed  the  wish  that  he  would  repair 
to  his  own  quarters  as  soon  as  he  had  sufficiently 
recovered,  as  he  desired  his  personal  services  in 
the  next  campaign.  In  the  spring  he  passed  a 
month  in  Middletown,  in  his  native  State,  and 
then  returned  to  New  Haven.  As  he  approached 
the  latter  place,  he  was  received  with  military 
honors ;  a  company  of  soldiers  marched  out  to 
meet  him  on  the  road,  and  crowds  of  the  citizens 
accompanied  them.  Cannon  were  likewise  dis- 
charged to  testify  to  the  public  appreciation  of 
17* 


198  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

his  services.  These  demonstrations  should  have 
filled  the  soul  of  a  brave  man  like  himself  with 
the  sweetest  satisfaction. 

In  May,  Arnold  went  on  to  the  camp  of  Wash- 
ington, at  Valley  Forge.  The  British  were  then 
in  possession  of  Philadelphia,  but  evacuated  a 
few  days  afterwards,  when  Arnold  was  tendered 
the  command,  and  proceeded  to  make  his  head- 
quarters in  the  city.  His  wound  did  not  suffer 
him  to  engage  in  field  service,  and  no  better  post 
than  this  could  have  been  found  for  him. 

He  had  but  a  regiment  under  him  here,  and  his 
duties  were  light ;  yet  the  situation  was  a  delicate 
and  difficult  one,  on  account  of  the  long  stay  the 
British  had  made ;  the  people  were  become  largely 
disaffected,  and,  in  fact,  a  great  part  of  the  most 
respectable  inhabitants  decidedly  favored  the 
British  cause.  There  were  disputes  about  prop- 
erty of  all  kinds,  especially  of  merchandise. 

The  temptations,  on  these  accounts,  to  a  per- 
son of  not  the  most  fixed  resolutions,  were  many 
and  powerful.  For  a  man  like  Arnold, —  hasty, 
ambitious,  petulant,  fond  of  show,  and  inclined 
to  almost  any  extravagance  to  sustain  it, —  it  was 
a  great  trial  indeed.  What  made  his  position 


ARNOLD  AT  PHILADELPHIA  199 

still  more  hazardous,  his  authority  was  not  prop- 
erly defined:  thus  leaving  him  at  liberty  to  take 
such  advantages  without  restraint  as  came  in  his 
way.  He  was  put  almost  entirely  upon  his  own 
discretion ;  and  he  must  be  a  man  of  fixed  and 
firm  principle,  who  can  successfully  resist  strong 
temptations  like  those  which  beset  Arnold,  with 
no  guidance  or  check  save  what  he  chose  to  im- 
pose upon  himself. 

He  had  been  in  Philadelphia  but  a  month, 
when  he  thought  seriously  of  quitting  the  army 
and  joining  the  naval  service.  He  wrote  to 
Washington  about  it,  speaking  of  his  wounds  as 
likely  to  keep  him  out  of  the  field  for  some  time 
to  come,  and  urging  that,  if  he  did  not  finally 
conclude  to  retire  to  private  life  again,  he  might 
be  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  navy. 
Washington  would  not  give  any  encouragement 
to  his  application,  but  pleaded  ignorance  of  naval 
matters,  and  said  that  he  was  not  a  proper  judge 
at  all  of  Arnold's  qualifications.  Arnold  had 
already  made  enemies  in  the  city,  and  that  did 
not  better  his  situation  much ;  the  difficulty  arose 
from  a  conflict  between  himself  as  a  military 
commander,  and  the  authority  of  the  State. 


200  BENEDICT   ARNOLt). 

Congress  had  ordered  that  no  goods  or  merchan- 
dise should  be  sold  until  a  joint  committee  of 
Congress  and  the  Council  of  Pennsylvania  should 
decide  to  whom  they  rightfully  belonged, — 
whether  to  the  loyal  citizens,  or  to  those  who 
openly  favored  the  royal  cause;  and  Arnold 
issued  a  proclamation,  notifying  the  people  thai 
he  should  enforce  this  order  of  Congress  strictly. 
Many  became  enraged  against  him  in  conse- 
quence; and  he  was  charged  with  privately  buy- 
ing and  selling  goods  for  his  own  advantage, 
while  he  prevented  others  from  doing  only  what 
he  was  doing  himself. 

While  he  resided  in  Philadelphia,  he  kept  up 
an  extravagant  style  of  living;  his  house  was  one 
of  the  finest  in  town ;  he  supported  a  carriage 
and  four,  with  which  he  used  to  appear  in  tin- 
public  streets  with  imposing  effect ;  his  servants 
were  very  numerous;  he  gave  expensive  dinner 
parties;  and,  generally,  he  gave  himself  up  to  a 
way  of  life  that  could  not  but  excite  scandal 
against  a  leading  officer  in  an  impoverished  coun- 
try. Add  to  this  that  Congress  had  not  yet 
settled  his  accounts,  and  that  he  was  openly 
charged  with  mercenary  practices,  in  the  buying 


ARNOLD    AT    PHILADELPHIA. 

and  selling  of  goods,  and  it  is  easy  to  conceive 
that  his  reputation  was  suffering  much  from  his 
own  voluntary  practices.  He  seemed  to  forget 
that  he  was  a  commander  now,  with  the  respon- 
sibilities of  properly  governing  a  large  city  on  his 
shoulders;  but  began  to  busy  himself  in  traffic, 
just  as  much  as  when  he  was  purchasing  horses 
in  Canada  and  shipping  them  from  New  Haven 
to  the  West  Indies.  He  even  conceived  the 
design  of  fitting  out  a  privateer,  for  the  purpose 
of  making  such  captures  from  the  enemy  as  he 
could  upon  the  ocean.  He  likewise  used  the 
public  moneys  that  passed  through  his  hands,  and 
exerted  himself  in  every  way  to  secure  the  wealth 
that  would  allow  him  to  indulge  his  extravagant 
inclinations. 

While  occupying  this  position,  he  saw  and  fell 
in  love  with  Miss  Margaret  Shippen,  then  resid- 
ing in  Philadelphia,  and  one  of  the  reigning  belles 
of  the  city.  Her  family  were  not  inclined  to  favor 
the  cause  of  America,  and  his  addresses  were 
therefore  set  down  to  his  further  prejudice.  At 
any  rate,  it  is  certain  that  at  that  time  he  kept 
company  more  with  the  friends  of  Great  Britain 
than  of  America. 


202  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

Arnold  did  one  generous  thing,  however,  for 
\\hich  he  must  receive  the  admiration  of  all  par- 
lirs.  He  took  a  lively  and  tender  interest  in  the 
four  young  orphan  children  of  Gen.  Joseph  War- 
ren, the  only  legacy  besides  his  name  that  he  left 
his  country ;  and  it  was  through  his  personal 
efforts  that  Congress  offered  to  educate  the  oldest 
son,  while  it  was  expected  that  Massachusctt- 
would  take  care  of  the  rest ;  but  as  it  did  not,  he 
addressed  the  following  kind  letter  respecting 
them  to  Miss  Mercy  Scollay,  of  Boston,  in  whose 
care  they  were  placed  :  — 

"  About  three  months  ago,  I  was  informed  that 
my  late  worthy  friend,  General  Warren,  left  his 
affairs  unsettled,  and  that,  after  paying  his  debts, 
a  very  small  matter,  if  anything,  would  remain 
for  the  education  of  his  children,  who,  to  my  great 
surprise,  I  find  have  been  entirely  neglected  by 
the  State.  Permit  me  to  beg  your  continuing 
your  care  of  the  daughter,  and  that  you  will  at 
present  take  charge  of  the  education  of  the  son. 
I  make  no  doubt  that  his  relations  will  consent 
that  he  shall  be  under  your  care.  My  intention 
is  to  use  my  interest  with  Congress  to  provide 
for  the  family.  If  they  decline  it,  I  make  no 
doubt  of  a  handsome  collection  by  private  sub- 


ARNOLD   At   PHILADELPHIA. 


scription.  At  all  events,  I  will  provide  for  them 
in  a  manner  suitable  to  their  birth,  and  the  grate- 
ful sentiments  I  shall  ever  feel  for  the  memory  of 
my  friend.  I  have  sent  to  you  by  Mr.  Hancock 
five  hundred  dollars  for  the  present.  I  wish  you 
to  have  Richard  clothed  handsomely,  and  sent  to 
the  best  school  in  Boston.  Any  expense  you  are 
at,  please  call  on  me  for,  and  it  shall  be  paid  with 
thanks." 


He  kept  his  word  faithfully.  Money  was  sent 
on  with  regularity.  He  tried  to  raise  private  sub- 
scriptions, but  that  came  to  nothing.  He  like- 
wise engaged  the  attention  of  Congress  in  the 
matter,  and  a  committee  reported  that  the  rest  of 
the  children  ought  to  be  maintained  at  the  public 
expense  till  they  were  of  age,  when  a  thousand 
pounds  apiece  should  be  given  them.  The  aid 
was  not  finally  granted  in  this  shape,  but  Con- 
gress voted  them  a  major  general's  half-pay  from 
the  date  of  their  father's  death,  which  amounted 
to  nearly  seven  thousand  dollars  to  begin  with. 

Only  six  weeks  before  he  betrayed  his  country, 
he  wrote  to  Miss  Scollay  on  the  subject  of  these 
children  again.  This  incident  is  one  that  goes 
far  to  redeem  his  character. 


-04  BENEDICT  ARNOL1). 

While  hostility  was  making  head  against  him 
in  Pennsylvania,  he  set  on  foot  a  scheme  for 
founding  a  settlement  in  western  New  York,  then 
a  tract  of  wild  land  ;  he  intended  to  engage  in  it 
all  the  officers  and  soldiers  who  had  ever  been  in 
his  command,  and  the  expedition  was  to  set  forth 
as  soon  as  the  war  should  come  to  an  end.  He 
took  letters  from  distinguished  men,  and  started 
for  Albany  about  the  1st  of  January,  1779,  to 
complete  his  arrangements. 

Hardly  was  his  back  turned,  when  the  Council 
of  Pennsylvania  began  to  rake  over  their  preju- 
dices against  him,  and  to  put  their  complaints  in 
form.  They  passed  resolutions  that  affirmed  that 
he  had  shown  himself  a  military  oppressor,  that 
his  conduct  was  unworthy  of  his  rank,  that  it 
was  an  injury  to  the  American  cause,  and  want- 
ing in  respect  to  the  State  authority.  These 
charges,  eight  in  number,  were  sent  to  Congress 
for  their  action.  Copies  of  them  were  received 
by  Arnold  while  on  his  journey  to  Albany;  he 
immediately  sat  down  and  wrote  a  letter  to  Miss 
Shippen,  trusting  that  these  things  would  have 
no  effect  upon  her,  for  they  could  in  no  way 
harm  him. 


ARNOLD   AT   PHILADELPHIA. 

Next  he  issued  an  address  to  the  people,  going 
into  a  strong  defence  of  his  own  conduct,  and 
attempting  to  refute  the  charges  of  the  Council. 
He  stated  that  he  had  desired  Congress  to  order 
a  court-martial  on  his  conduct;  and  hoped  the 
public  would  reserve  their  opinion  till  such  in- 
quiry was  made. 

There  were  two  parties  on  this  question ;  one 
favored  Arnold,  and  thought  he  was  persecuted ; 
the  other  upheld  the  authorities  of  Pennsylvania. 
These  parties  found  their  way  into  Congress,  as 
a  matter  of  course. 

Arnold  meant  to  resign  his  situation  in  Phila- 
delphia in  January  ;  but  he  afterwards  thought  it 
best  to  wait  till  the  committee  brought  in  their 
report.  They  did  so  about  the  middle  of  March, 
and  cleared  him  of  every  suspicion  of  guilt.  This 
elated  him,  and  without  another  thought  he 
resigned  his  post.  Bat  he  was  in  too  great 
haste;  Congress  itself  had  not  yet  acted  on  the 
report.  Instead  of  passing  directly  upon  it  as 
1hey  should  have  done,  they  referred  it  again  to  a 
joint  committee  of  their  own  body  and  the 
assembly  of  Pennsylvania.  Inasmuch  as  he  was 
just  then  in  the  midst  of  preparations  for  his 
18 


206  BENEDICT   ARNOLl). 

marriage,  these  proceedings  inflamed  and  irri- 
tated him  to  an  extreme  degree.  And  it  was  but 
natural  they  should  ;  for  few  ladies  of  character 
would  wish  to  connect  themselves  with  a  gentle- 
man, against  whom  were  still  pending  similar 
charges  of  criminality. 

There  was  a  hot  debate  in  Congress  over  the 
measures  recommended  by  this  joint  committee, 
which  finally  ended  in  empowering  Washington 
to  order  a  court-martial.  Arnold  was  indignant 
that  he  should  again  be  tried,  after  having  once 
been  put  to  that  test  and  trouble ;  he  said  that 
Congress  had  taken  this  step  merely  to  please 
the  authorities  of  Pennsylvania,  and  were  ready 
to  sacrifice  him  in  order  to  be  at  peace  with 
them. 

He  was  married  to  Miss  Shippen  five  days 
after  Congress  had  voted  this  court-martial;  she 
remained  true  to  him  through  it  alL 

Washington  appointed  the  trial  for  the  1st  of 
May ;  but,  from  one  reason  and  another,  it  was 
postponed  till  Arnold's  patience  was  nearly  ex- 
hausted. While  delayed  in  this  way  he  con- 
tinued to  reside  in  Philadelphia,  where  his  habits 
grew  more  expensive  and  ostentatious  than  ever. 


ARNOLD    AT    PHILADELPHIA.  207 

He  was  assaulted  in  the  streets  at  one  time,  so 
great  was  his  unpopularity,  and  he  asked  Con- 
gress for  a  body-guard,  declaring  that  "  no  pro- 
tection was  to  be  expected  from  the  authority  of 
the  State  for  an  honest  man."  Congress  tartly 
answered  him  that  he  must  look  to  the  State  for 
protection,  "  in  whose  disposition  to  protect  every 
honest  citizen  they  had  full  confidence,  and  highly 
disapproved  the  insinuation  of  every  individual  to 
the  contrary." 

Nothing  was  done  by  the  court  daring  the 
whole  of  that  season.  The  army  was  in  the 
field,  but  Arnold  was  ignominiously  laid  on  the 
shelf.  He  could  serve  his  country  neither  in  one 
capacity  nor  another.  His  spirit  rebelled  against 
this  treatment;  it  would,  indeed,  have  been  diffi- 
cult for  almost  any  man  of  spirit  to  endure. 

The  army  had  gone  into  winter-quarters,  when 
the  court  began  its  session  at  Morristown.  Only 
four  out  of  the  eight  original  charges  were  brought 
before  them.  He  was  acquitted  on  two,  and 
found  guilty  on  the  other  two;  yet  the  verdict 
explained  that  no  fraud  was  proved  against  Ar- 
nold, but  that  his  conduct  had  simply  been  found 
to  be  irregular  and  imprudent ;  and  the  sentence 


208  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

was,  that  he  be  reprimanded  by  the  commander' 
in-chief.  Congress  confirmed  this  sentence  on 
the  12th  of  February,  1780. 

After  all  this,  in  spite  of  the  harmless  character 
of  the  finding  of  the  court,  Arnold  felt  the  deep- 
est and  bitterest  resentment  It  is  not  difficult 
for  those  who  are  given  to  trace  the  line  of  cause 
and  effect,  to  see  in  this  transaction  of  Congress, 
yielding  as  they  did  to  the  virulent  prejudices  of 
Pennsylvania,  the  natural  stimulus  and  induce- 
ment to  that  crime  which  will  make  the  name  of 
Benedict  Arnold  forever  detestable. 

Washington  reprimanded  him ;  but  he  did  it 
in  as  mild  a  way  as  possible,  knowing  something 
himself  of  the  sensitiveness  of  the  brave  soldier. 
His  words  were  these  :  —  "  Our  profession  is  the 
chastest  of  all ;  even  the  shadow  of  a  fault  tar- 
nishes the  lustre  of  our  finest  achievements.  The 
least  inadvertence  may  rob  us  of  the  public  favor, 
so  hard  to  be  acquired.  I  reprehend  you  for  hav- 
ing forgotten,  that,  in  proportion  as  you  had  ren- 
dered yourself  formidable  to  our  enemies,  you 
should  have  been  guarded  and  temperate  in  your 
deportment  towards  your  fellow-citizens. 

"  ExhibH   anew   those   noble    qualities   which 


ARNOLD    AT    PHILADELPHIA.  209 

have  placed  you  on  the  list  of  our  most  valued 
commanders.  I  will  myself  furnish  you,  as  far  as 
it  may  be  in  my  power,  with  opportunities  of 
regaining  the  esteem  of  your  country." 

In  March,  Arnold  started  another  plan ;  it  was 
an  expedition,  to  be  equipped  with  several  vessels 
of  war  and  three  or  four  hundred  troops,  of  which 
he  wished  to  be  placed  in  command.  But  so 
many  men  could  not  at  that  time  be  spared  from 
the  army,  and  the  project  was  abandoned.  On 
this  he  obtained  leave  of  absence  from  Washing- 
ton for  the  summer,  urging  as  reasons  for  asking 
it  his  severe  wounds  and  the  small  prospect  there 
was  of  an  active  campaign.  He  then  went  back 
to  Philadelphia,  where  he  lived  in  even  a  more 
extravagant  style  than  before.  The  house  he 
occupied  was  the  old  mansion  of  the  Penns.  It 
was  expensively  furnished,  and  he  entertained  in 
a  manner  calculated  to  strike  people  with  won- 
der. The  truth  was,  the  one  weak  point  in  Ar- 
nold's character  was  his  love  of  display.  To  pro- 
cure money  with  which  to  gratify  this  passion,  he 
resorted  to  expedients  from  which  most  men  in 
his  position,  especially  if  they  were  true  patriots, 
Would  instinctively  have  shrunk.  When  the 
18* 


210  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

French  fleet  arrived  off  our  coast,  and  it  was 
expected  that  the  British  would  be  compelled  i<> 
vacate  New  York,  Arnold  entered  into  a  regular 
partnership  with  two  other  individuals,  for  the 
purpose  of  purchasing  goods  within  the  enemy's 
lines  to  as  large  an  amount  as  an  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars.  This  was  a  transaction 
with  which  he  should  have  scorned  to  have  any- 
thing to  do. 

He  still  dinged  it  into  the  ears  of  Congress 
that  it  was  high  time  his  accounts  were  settled ; 
but  they  were  a  long  time  getting  to  them.  This 
delay  stung  him  as  much  as  anything  could. 
Finally  the  committee  to  whom  they  were  refer- 
red, made  a  report;  and  the  Treasury  Board  took 
the  accounts  in  hand  to  settle  them.  But  the 
settlement  did  not  satisfy  Arnold  any  better  than 
the  delay  about  getting  to  it  did  before ;  he 
inveighed  against  them  till  all  parties  got  thor- 
oughly tired  out  with  hearing  about  it,  and  it 
seemed  as  if,  between  one  side  and  the  other,  he 
had  lost  his  friends  altogether. 

In  such  a  state  of  rnind,  full  of  anger  and  dis- 
appointment, his  pride  wounded  in  its  most  sen- 
sitive part,  he  approached  M.  de  la  Luzerne,  the 


ARNOLD   AT  PHILADELPHIA.  211 

French  envoy,  with  the  design  of  getting  from 
him,  in  some  way,  pecuniary  aid.  Luzerne  held 
him  in  the  highest  admiration,  and  Arnold 
thought  he  could  take  advantage  of  so  favorable 
a  fact.  To  him,  therefore,  he  opened  his  heart 
freely ;  he  rehearsed  the  history  of  his  services  for 
his  country,  the  wrongs  with  which  that  country 
had  visited  him,  and  the  persistent  and  ground- 
less malice  of  his  enemies ;  he  said  that  the  war 
had  ruined  him,  and  he  must  either  obtain  pecu- 
niary aid,  or  relinquish  the  army  altogether;  in 
short,  he  made  an  outright  proposal  for  the  King 
of  the  French  to  purchase  him,  by  favoring  him 
with  a  loan  of  money. 

The  envoy  was  struck  with  astonishment.  He 
declined  the  proffer  of  Arnold  with  firmness  and 
candor,  telling  him  that  the  transaction  would 
degrade  both  of  them.  "  When  the  envoy  of  a 
foreign  power  gives,  or,  if  you  will,  lends  money," 
said  he,  "  it  is  ordinarily  to  corrupt  those  who 
receive  it;"  and  still  admiring  the  unprincipled 
man  who  had  thus  addressed  him,  he  strove  in 
every  honorable  way  to  bring  him  back  to  the 
path  of  honor  and  integrity.  He  kindly  expostu- 
lated with  him ;  and  told  him  that  if  he  wished 


212  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

to  exhibit  that  devotion  to  his  country  which  he 
professed,  he  need  not  wait  for  a  better  time  than 
now;  it  was  very  easy  to  show  that  the  malice 
of  his  enemies  could  not  harm  him,  and  that 
their  prejudices  were  without  foundation. 

But  Arnold  cared  nothing  for  his  expostula- 
tions or  his  advice.  He  found  there  was  no 
chance  to  make  money  out  of  the  envoy,  and 
turned  from  him  with  an  increased  determination 
to  carry  his  services  where  they  would  bring  the 
highest  market  price.  On  that  day  he  had 
crossed  a  line  over  which  he  could  not  easily 
expect  to  retreat. 


CHAPTER     X. 

PLOTTING  TREASON.* 

THE  greatest  crime  in  the  whole  catalogue 
of'  crimes,  Arnold  now  began  deliberately 
to  plan.  He  was  the  only  one  of  all  the 
officers  of  the  Revolution  who  proved  traitorous 
to  his  country.  The  two  motives  that  hurried 
him  on  to  this  step,  as  the  reader  must  see  for 
himself,  were  his  wounded  pride  and  his  sordid 
disposition.  When  the  authorities  of  Pennsyl- 
vania were  making  war  upon  him,  he  confined 
his  resentment  to  them  alone ;  but  as  soon  as 
Congress  took  up  their  cause,  and  ordered  a 
court-martial  that  finally  found  him  guilty  of 
improper  and  unmilitary  conduct,  he  transferred 
his  hatred  to  those  who  were  acting  on  behalf  of 
his  country,  and  of  course  to  that  country  itself. 

*  I  am  much  indebted  to  Sparks's  "  Life  and  Treason  of  Arnold  " 
for  many  of  the  details  to  be  found  in  the  chapters  that  follow* 


214  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

He  was  covered  with  debt,  and  he  had  a  feel- 
ing also  of  having  been  publicly  disgraced ;  he 
had  been  delayed  in  the  settlement  of  his  ac- 
counts; the  way  in  which  he  had  been  treated  in 
the  matter  of  his  military  rank  it  galled  him  to 
think  of;  he  had  sunk  in  the  estimation  of  the 
French  envoy ;  he  had  been  for  months  in  cor- 
respondence, in  one  way  and  another,  with  the 
enemy;  creditors  were  following  him  up  for  debts 
into  which  his  extravagant  habits  had  led  him ; 
and  he  resolved  to  make  one  move  more,  no 
matter  how  desperate  it  was,  to  extricate  himself 
from  his  position,  and  place  himself  in  possession 
of  the  stake  for  which  he  was  willing  to  risk  all. 

With  characteristic  boldness,  he  opened  a  cor- 
respondence direct  with  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  in 
New  York.  He  disguised  his  hand,  and  adopted 
the  name  of  Gustavus.  In  these  letters  he  set 
forth  that  he  was  an  officer  in  the  American 
army,  who  was  opposed  to  the  recent  alliance  of 
America  and  France,  and  ready  to  signify  his 
disapprobation  by  coming  back  to  the  support  of 
the  king.  As  a  further  inducement  to  this,  all 
he  asked  was  that  the  loss  of  property  he  would 
be  obliged  to  suffer  in  consequence  might  be 


PLOTTING   TREASON.  215 

made  up  to  him  again.  And  in  order  to  interest 
Clinton  the  more  in  what  he  wrote,  he  gave  items 
of  intelligence  respecting  the  Americans  from 
time  to  time,  which  proved  soon  after  to  be  true. 

Clihlon  became  interested,  and  told  his  aide- 
de-camp,  Major  John  Andre",  to  return  proper 
replies ;  which  the  latter  engaged  in,  under  the 
fictitious  name  of  John  Anderson,  and  in  a  dis- 
guised hand.  Thus  this  correspondence  was  car- 
ried on  for  months.  Clinton  saw  as  yet  no  great 
advantage  likely  to  grow  out  of  it,  because,  when 
he  came  to  find  out  who  this  Gustavus  was,  it 
occurred  to  him  that  the  latter  then  held  no 
actual  rank  in  the  service,  and  could  sell  nothing 
more  than  himself  and  his  personal  endeavors. 
This  was  hardly  worth  the  trouble ;  almost  any 
other  man  of  equal  courage  would  answer  just  as 
well. 

Seeing  how  the  matter  stood,  and  what  was 
chiefly  in  his  light,  Arnold  resolved  to  place  him- 
self in  a  position  where  his  favor  would  be  likely 
to  command  the  price  he  demanded.  'Accord- 
ingly he  importuned  Washington  for  the  com- 
mand of  West  Point,  till  the  latter,  though 
greatly  surprised  at  his  request,  gave  him  charge 


216  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

of  the  post  And  early  in  August,  1780,  he  went 
up  the  Hudson,  and  established  his  quarters  in 
the  Robinson  House,  on  the  eastern  side  of  the 
river  and  a  few  miles,  below  West  Point.  Here 
he  continued  the  secret  correspondence  with 
Andre"  industriously,  both  of  them  still  using  the 
names  of  Gustavus  and  John  Anderson,  and 
wording  the  letters  after  the  style  of  men  engaged 
in  a  commercial  transaction.  It  was  Arnold's 
plan  to  betray  West  Point  and  its  fortress,  which 
was  in  fact  the  key  to  the  Highlands,  into  the 
hands  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton.  It  was  AndrtTs 
aim  to  do  the  most  effective  service  he  could 
for  his  king,  conscious  that  a  glittering  reward 
awaited  him  if  he  should  be  successful. 

The  transaction,  in  few  words,  was  to  be  thus : 
—  Since  it  was  known  that  it  was  the  design  of 
the  Americans  and  French  to  cooperate  against 
the  British,  in  New  York,  the  critical  moment 
when  the  American  forces  would  be  drawn  away 
was  to  be  seized  for  the  consummation  of  the 
treachery.  Washington  would  be  down  near 
King's  Bridge,  and  the  French  would  be  on  Long 
Island ;  and  then  it  was  that  the  British  were  to 
sail  up  the  Hudson  in  a  flotilla  of  boats  as  far  as 


PLOTTING  TREASON.  217 

the  Highlands,  and  land  and  surprise  West  Point, 
which,  after  a  mere  show  of  resistance,  was  to  be 
surrendered  by  Arnold.  Thus  would  the  East- 
ern and  the  Western  States  be  dissevered,  and 
Washington's  favorite  plans  of  warfare  would 
fall  to  the  ground. 

Arnold  of  course  thought  he  would  not  be 
driven  from  the  country  in  case  of  the  success  of 
this  project,  but  that  his  treachery  would  be  kept 
a  secret  always ;  and,  indeed,  had  Great  Britain 
by  this  means  obtained  control  on  our  soil  again, 
it  is  not  likely  that  he  would  have  suffered  from 
any  discomfort ;  on  the  contrary,  he  might  have 
held  high  and  important  trusts. 

Major  Andrd  was  at  this  time  in  the  thirtieth 
year  of  his  age  ;  accomplished  and  popular ;  social 
in  the  extreme;  the  favorite  with  the  officers;  and 
as  ready  to  write  a  squib  in  rhyme,  or  help  the 
ladies  on  with  their  party  plays,  as  he  was  to  risk 
his  life  in  the  service  of  his  king.  He  was  a 
native  of  Switzerland,  but  had  been  educated  in 
a  counting-room  in  London.  At  eighteen  he  had 
fallen  in  love,  but  the  parents  of  the  young  lady 
broke  off'  the  match ;  and  to  his  dying  day  he 
wore  next  his  heart  the  portrait  of  her  who 
19 


218  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

shared  his  affections.  He  was  taken  prisoner  by 
Montgomery  at  the  capture  of  St.  John's,  in 
Canada,  and  wrote  to  a  friend  at  the  time,  that 
he  had  been  stripped  of  everything  by  his  captors 
"  except  the  picture  of  Honora,  which  I  concealed 
in  my  mouth."  He  could  paint  and  draw,  write 
verses,  and  make  himself  agreeable  to  all  around 
him ;  and  in  the  theatrical  shows  with  which  the 
British  officers  solaced  their  idleness  in  New 
York,  he  was  always  ready  to  take  an  active 
part. 

Having  been  intimately  acquainted  with  Mrs. 
Arnold  during  his  stay  with  the  British  army  in 
Philadelphia,  and  before  her  marriage,  he  made 
use  of  so  fortunate  a  circumstance  to  covei-  his 
correspondence  now  with  her  husband.  It  was 
not,  however,  what  a  man  with  the  highest  and 
most  delicate  sense  of  honor  would  have  permit- 
ted himself  to  do.  Mrs.  Arnold  afterwards  rested 
under  the  stigma  of  being  privy  to  the  nature 
of  this  correspondence ;  but  there  is  nothing  to 
show  that  it  was  more  than  an  unfounded  suspi- 
cion. Had  Andre"  been  alive,  he  would  have  set 
the  matter  right  with  a  word. 

Irving  well  says  of  Andrd  and   his  correspond- 


PLOTTING   TREASON.  219 

ence  with  Arnold  through  such  a  channel, — 
"  Various  circumstances  connected  with  this  ne- 
farious negotiation,  argue  lightness  of  mind  and 
something  of  debasing  alloy  on  the  part  of  Andre". 
The  correspondence  carried  on  for  months  in  the 
jargon  of  traffic,  savored  less  of  the  camp  than 
the  counting-house ;  the  protracted  tampering 
with  a  brave  and  necessitous  man  for  the  sacri- 
fice of  his  fame  and  the  betrayal  of  his  trust, 
strikes  us  as  being  beneath  the  range  of  a  truly 
chivalrous  nature." 

Having  thus  opened  ihe  way,  the  next  thing  in 
order  was  an  interview ;  it  was  necessary  for 
Arnold  and  Andrd  to  see  one  another.  Arnold 
wanted  Andr£  to  come  to  his  quarters  at  the 
Robinson  House,  in  disguise,  using  his  fictitious 
name  ;  but  this  risk  he  refused  to  run.  Then  the 
proposition  was  to  meet  near  the  outposts,  at 
Dobb's  Ferry,  and  on  what  was  called  the  "  neu- 
tral ground ; "  to  this  Andre"  at  last  consented. 
The  time  appointed  for  the  meeting  was  the 
llth  of  September,  at  twelve  o'clock  meridian. 

Andr6  was  punctual,  but  Arnold  was  kept 
away  by  an  unforeseen  occurrence ;  he  was  com- 
ing down  the  river  in  his  barge,  from  the  house 


BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

of  Mr.  Joshua  H.  Smith,  just  below  Stony  Point 
on  the  western  side,  when  the  British  guard-boats 
near  Dobb's  Ferry  fired"  upon  him  and  compelled 
him  to  return  to  the  shore.  He  had  no  flag  with 
him,  and  the  guard  were  of  course  ignorant  of  his 
business.  During  the  night  he  returned  to  the 
Robinson  House,  to  make  his  arrangements  all 
over  again.  Andrd  went  back  to  the  British  ves- 
sel in  the  stream.  In  order  to  keep  suspicion  out 
of  the  thoughts  of  Washington,  Arnold  wrote  to 
him  of  his  trip  down  the  river,  and  pretended  he 
had  made  it  in  order  to  provide  against  surprise 
from  the  enemy's  movements  in  their  vessels. 

Another  negotiation  for  a  meeting  was  opened. 
Washington  was  to  be  absent  at  Hartford,  to 
confer  with  Count  Rochambeau  and  other  French 
officers  in  relation  to  the  attack  on  New  York ; 
and  then,  thought  Arnold,  would  be  the  time  for 
the  meeting  with  Andre".  The  British  sloop-of- 
war  Vulture  came  up  the  river  and  anchored  just 
below  Teller's  Point,  to  be  of  service  while  the 
plot  was  hatching.  Col.  Beverly  Robinson  was 
on  board,  the  same  who  once  owned  the  "  Robin- 
son House "  at  which  Arnold  now  made  his 
head-quarters ;  he  was  a  royalist,  and  all  his  prop- 


PLOTTING   TREASON.  221 

erty  had  been  confiscated.  In  order  to  get  word 
to  Arnold,  he  pretended  not  to  know  but  what 
Putnam  was  still  in  command  in  the  Highlands; 
and  so  sent  a  letter  to  the  latter  concerning  his 
property,  requesting  an  interview,  enclosed  in 
another  letter  to  Arnold.  If  Putnam  was  absent, 
he  asked  that  Arnold  might  meet  him  in  his 
stead,  as  he  wished  to  talk  further  of  his  property. 
Washington  sailed  across  the  Hudson  in  Ar- 
nold's barge,  on  the  18th  of  September,  on  his 
route  to  Hartford.  Arnold  went  over  with  him, 
and  with  the  rest  of  his  staff.  The  Vulture 
was  in  sight,  and  Washington  looked  at  it 
through  his  glass.  Those  who  recalled  the  inci- 
dont  afterwards,  remembered  that  Arnold  ap- 
peared uneasy  and  full  of  concern  all  the  time. 
While  going  across,  also,  Lafayette  remarked 
to  Arnold,  speaking  of  the  French  fleet  under 
Guichen  that  was  looked  for  every  day  upon  the 
coast,  — "  General  Arnold,  since  you  have  a  cor- 
respondence with  the  enemy,  you  must  ascertain 
as  soon  as  possible  what  has  become  of  Guichen." 
Arnold  asked  him  what  he  meant;  he  acted 
strangely,  and  doubtless  thought  the  whole  plot 
was  exposed,  and  that  this  method  and  place  bad 
19* 


222  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

been  chosen  to  confront  and  arrest  him.  While 
on  the  road  to  Peekskill,  Arnold  laid  before 
Washington  the  contents  of  this  letter  of  Robin- 
son, and  asked  what  he  had  better  do ;  Washing- 
ton advised  him  to  take  no  notice  of  it,  as  it  was 
out  of  the  line  of  military  proceeding ;  if  Col. 
Robinson  wished  his  property  restored  to  him,  he 
must  apply  to  the  civil  authorities. 

But  Arnold  heeded  the  advice  by  sending  an 
answer  by  a  flag  directly  back  to  Robinson,  on 
board  the  Vulture  ;  and  in  this  answer  he  took 
occasion  to  say  that  a  person  with  a  flag  would 
corne  alongside  in  a  boat,  on  the  night  of  the 
20th ;  and  in  order  to  blind  other  parties,  should 
the  letter  fall  into  their  hands,  he  added  that 
Washington  would  probably  return  on  the  Sat- 
urday following,  and,  if  he  had  business  with 
him,  he  could  communicate  it  by  this  messenger 
of  the  20th. 

This  was  exactly  the  hint  wanted  to  fill  up  the 
existing  gap  in  the  arrangement.  Andr6  came 
up  the  river  again  on  the  20th,  therefore,  went 
on  board  the  Vulture,  and  met  Col.  Robinson. 
He  inquired  of  him  for  Arnold ;  but  he  was  not 
there,  and  never  meant  to  be  there.  The  time 


PLOTTING    TREASON.  22." 

had  not  yet  arrived  when  a  British  vessel-of-war 
was  the  safest  place  for  him. 

On  the  night  of  the  20th,  no  boat  came  along- 
side ;  on  the  next  night,  however,  the  watch  on 
deck  descried  a  little  craft  gliding  silently  over  the 
water,  with  three  men  in  it.  Their  oars  made  no 
click  as  they  worked  in  the  rowlocks ;  the  blades 
dipped  silently  in  the  river,  as  if  the  whole  was 
the  work  of  magic.  It  was  about  half  past 
eleven  o'clock.  An  officer  hailed  them  from  the 
deck.  The  man  in  the  stern  answered  that  they 
came  from  King's  Ferry,  and  were  going  down 
to  Dobb's  Ferry.  Upon  this  he  was  ordered  to 
come  alongside ;  and  in  another  moment  he  was 
climbing  over  the  rail  upon  the  deck. 

This  man  was  Joshua  H.  Smith.  Arnold  had 
employed  him  to  go  on  board,  and  told  him  that 
he  was  to  bring  back  a  person  who  was  to  fetch 
him  important  news  from  New  York.  To  pre- 
vent surprise  and  capture,  he  carried  passes  from 
Arnold  in  his  pocket,  answering  both  for  himself 
and  those  with  him.  He  also  bore  a  letter  to 
Col.  Robinson  from  Arnold,  in  which  the  latter 
said,  —  "This  will  be  delivered  to  you  by  Mr. 
Smith,  who  will  conduct  you  to  a  place  of  safety. 


224  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

Neither  Mr.  Smith  nor  any  other  person  shall  be 
made  acquainted  with  your  proposals;  if  they 
(which  I  doubt)  are  of  such  a  nature  that  I  can 
officially  take  notice  of  them,  I  shall  do  it  with 
pleasure.  I  take  it  for  granted  Colonel  Robinson 
will  not  propose  anything,  that  is  not  for  the  inter- 
est of  the  United  States  as  well  as  of  himself." 
He  wrote  in  fhis  blind  way  about  "  Colonel  Rob- 
inson" in  order  to  guard  against  detection  in  case 
of  an  accident  to  the  letter. 

Robinson  pretended  to  Smith  to  be  too  unwell 
to  go  on  shore  himself,  and  introduced  to  him  a 
gentleman  in  his  place  by  the  name  of  John  And- 
erson, —  who  was,  as  the  reader  knows,  no  other 
than  Major  Andre*.  Smith  declared  that  even 
then  he  did  not  suspect  anything  wrong,  inas- 
much as  Andre"  was  dressed  in  a  great-coat  of 
blue,  hiding  his  uniform  and  entirely  concealing 
his  character.  Besides,  Robinson's  plea  of  ill 
health  was  very  natural,  and  he  assured  Smith 
that  Mr.  John  Anderson  knew  all  about  the  busi- 
ness in  hand,  and  would  make  the  arrangements 
and  give  the  information  just  as  well  as  he  could 
himself. 

Robinson,  for  all  this,  was  strongly  opposed,  in 


PLOTTING    TREASON.  225 

fact,  to  Andrews  going  on  shore  at  all;  he  knew 
not  what  Arnold's  promise  of  protection  was 
worth,  —  the  promise  of  a  man  who  was  plotting 
to  betray  his  country.  But  he  was  overcome  by 
the  superior  xeal  of  Andre.  The  latter  saw  a 
dash  of  adventure  in  an  undertaking  with  so 
much  risk  in  it,  and  it  offered  more  attractions  to 
him  on  that  account. 

He  therefore  went  down  over  the  vessel's  side 
into  the  boat.  Little,  indeed,  did  he  think  that 
he  was  going  on  an  errand  from  which  he  would 
never  return.  The  Captain  of  the  Vulture 
wanted  one  of  his  own  boats  to  go  out  armed 
and  escort  this  one ;  but  both  Smith  and  Andre 
objected  to  it,  as  more  likely  to  attract  attention. 
Besides,  they  were  going  under  a  flag  of  truce, 
and  an  armed,  boat  would  be  quite  out  of  charac- 
ter in  company  with  such  a  flag.  This  was  a 
reason  subsequently  offered  by  Sir  Henry  Clinton. 

The  boat,  thus  freighted  with  secrets  on  which 
depended  the  life  of  a  nation,  glided  silently 
over  the  water  towards  the  western  shore.  Not 
a  syllable  was  spoken  by  the  watermen,  and  the 
few  words  exchanged  by  Smith  and  Andr6  were 
very  low.  A  little  after  the  hour  of  midnight 


226  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

they  landed  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain,  full  of 
shadows  and  mystery,  called  Long  Clove.  This 
was  about  six  miles  below  Stony  Point. 

Arnold  was  already  there,  half  hidden  in  the 
bushes,  but  watching  with  an  anxious  look  for 
the  approach  of  his  midnight  visitor.  Twice 
already  they  had  been  foiled  in  their  attempts  to 
secure  a  meeting,  and  it  was  gratifying  now  to 
feel  assured  that  all  the  obstacles  had  Ix-cn  rr- 
moved.  Arnold  had  come  down  that  night  from 
Smith's  house  on  horseback,  and  a  servant  rode 
another  horse  ;  the  distance  was  between  three 
and  four  miles.  The  servant  retired  a  little  dis- 
tance with  the  horses,  and  was  waiting  further 
orders. 

Smith  came  up  from  the  water  first,  and  felt 
his  way  about  in  the  darkness  until  he  had  ap- 
proached near  Arnold's  hiding-place.  As  soon 
as  he  found  that,  he  returned  and  brought  back 
Andre*  with  him.  He  then  left  the  two  men 
together,  and  went  back  again  into  the  boat  to 
await  the  result  of  the  interview.  Thus  these 
plotters  against  Liberty  stood  concealed  in  that 
lonely  place,  at  the  hour  of  midnight,  with  no 
person  near  to  interrupt  their  consultation.  It 


PLOTTING    TREASON.  '   227 

was  an  hour  that  each  had  ardently  wished  for, 
but  had  eluded  them  both  till  now. 

Hour  after  hour  passed,  and  Smith  began  to 
feel  impatient.  It  was  not  so  easy  a  matter, 
either,  to  sit  in  a  boat  and  resist  the  influences 
of  the  air  of  a  night  in  September.  Presently 
he  went  up  the  bank  into  the  bushes  again,  and, 
in  a  whisper,  reminded  Arnold  that  it  was  get- 
ting late,  and  the  chances  of  being  discovered  by 
the  morning  light  were  thickening.  But  the 
traitorous  business  was  not  yet  completed;  more 
time  was  wanted  to  make  all  things  clear  to 
Andre,  and  the  arrangements  had  not  been  con- 
cluded for  Arnold's  remuneration  for  his  infamy. 
The  latter  therefore  urged  Andr£  to  remain  on 
shore  till  the  next  night,  promising  to  conduct 
him  to  a  place  of  safety,  and  then  to  send  him 
to  the  Vulture  again.  He  consented,  and  the 
boat  was  sent  higher  up  the  river  into  a  little 
creek  that  set  in  on  the  shore. 

Arnold  and  Andrd  then  mounted  the  two 
horses  the  servant  had  been  holding  in  the  thicket, 
and  rode  off  to  the  house  of  Smith.  Their  road 
took  them  through  the  little  village  of  Haver- 
straw;  and  there  the  demand  of  the  guard  for 


228  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

the  countersign  sent  a  shudder  of  alarm  to  the 
he;  rt  of  Andre",  for  this  was  the  fir*t  evidence  he 
had  that  he  was  within  the  American  lines. 
Even  if  he  had  desired  to  go  back,  it  was  too 
late  then :  he  had  reached  a  point  from  which  he 
could  not  so  easily  recede. 

They  came  to  the  house  at  daybreak,  and  went 
into  an  upper  room.  Smith  had  two  days  before 
sent  away  his  family  on  a  visit  to  their  friends  in 
Fishkill,  thirty  miles  above,  and  on  the  other  side 
of  the  river.  Hardly  had  they  shut  the  door, 
when  they  heard  the  thunder  of  cannon  below. 
From  the  window  of  the  chamber  Andrd  saw, 
with  sinking  spirits,  that  a  party  of  Americans 
were  firing  on  the  Vulture  from  Teller's  Point, 
having  secretly  carried  down  cannon  during  the 
night;  Livingston,  who  commanded  at  Ver- 
plank's  Point,  heard  on  the  day  before  that  she 
lay  within  cannon  range,  and  resolved  to  compel 
her  to  change  her  position.  Andrd  thought  at 
one  time  that  the  vessel  was  on  fire,  and  his  heart 
almost  misgave  him.  But  she  at  length  weighed 
anchor  and  dropped  down  the  river  beyond  can- 
non shot  reach. 

The   two  men  ate  their  breakfast,   and   then 


PLOTTING    TREASON.  229 

proceeded  to  finish  the  business  of  the  meeting 
The  whole  plot  was  laid  open,  explained,  and 
agreed  upon ;  and  then  the  sum  of  money  which 
Arnold  was  to  receive  was  named,  in  case  the 
treason  turned  out  successfully.  Arnold  gave 
Andre"  a  plan  of  the  works  at  West  Point, 
together  with  papers  properly  explaining  them; 
these  he  told  him  to  conceal  between  one  of  his 
stockings  and  his  foot,  and,  in  case  he  met  with 
trouble,  to  destroy  them.  Arnold  then  got  ready 
to  go  back  to  his  quarters  at  the  Robinson  House, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river.  But  before  he  left, 
he  informed  Andre  that  he  had  better  return  to 
New  York  by  land,  since  the  Vulture  had  gone 
further  down  the  river,  and  it  might  not  be  so 
easy  for  him  to  get  on  board  of  her ;  Andre",  how- 
ever, opposed  this  idea,  and  urged  that  he  should 
be  sent  to  the  vessel  on  the  same  night.  Arnold 
agreed  to  this,  but  furnished  him  with  a  written 
pass,  which  would  be  of  service  in  case  he  should 
be  obliged  to  go  down  by  land.  The  pass  read 
as  follows : 

"  HEAD  QUARTERS  ROBINSON 
HOUSE,  Septr  22d,  1780 

"  Permit  Mr.  John  Anderson  to  pass  the  Guards 
20 


230  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

to  the  White  Plains,  or  below,  if  He  chuses.     He 
being  on  Public  Buisness  by  my  Direction. 

B.  ARNOLD  M  Genl" 

It  was  ten  o'clock  in  the  forenoon  when  Arnold 
left  the  house.  Andrd  stayed  alone  all  day  in  tin- 
chamber.  What  his  thoughts  were  no  one  can 
tell.  There  is  little  doubt,  however,  that  he 
looked  wistfully  towards  the  Vulture  down  the 
stream,  and  many  a  time  wished  himself  safe  on 
her  deck ;  the  moment  he  was  there,  all  danger 
was  behind  him;  his  work  would  be  complete, 
and  his  reward  secure. 

Arnold  had  arranged  with  Smith,  who  still 
remained  at  home,  to  take  Andre"  back  to  the 
Vulture  as  soon  as  it  was  dark;  and  Andrd  .sup- 
posed that  such  an  arrangement  would  be  carried 
out.  After  his  capture,  he  wrote  as  follows  con- 
cerning it :  —  "  Arnold  quitted  me,  having  himself 
made  me  put  the  papers  I  bore  between  my 
stockings  and  feet  Whilst  he  did  it  he  expressed 
a  wish,  in  case  of  any  accident  befalling  me.  that 
they  should  be  destroyed :  which  I  said  of  course 
would  be  the  case,  as  when  I  went  into  the  boat 
1  should  have  them  tied  about  with  a  string  and 


BLOTTING   TREASON.  231 

stone.  Before  we  parted,  some  mention  had  been 
made  of  my  crossing  the  river  and  going  another 
route ;  but  I  objected  much  against  it,  and 
thought  it  was  settled,  that  in  the  way  I  came  I 
was  to  return." 

\Yf  there  was  some  trouble,  and  Arnold  had 
evidently  expected  there  would  be ;  for  he  had 
provided  three  passports,  —  two  for  Smith,  and 
one  for  Andre*.  Smith's  gave  him  a  free  right  to 
travel  either  by  water  or  by  land,  and  Andrews  we 
have  already  given  a  copy  of.  When  it  came 
night,  Andr£  supposed  his  anxiety  was  at  an  end  ; 
and  he  told  Smith  that  he  was  all  ready  to  be 
rowed  down  to  the  Vulture  again.  But  Smith 
objected  ;  he  said  that  he  had  been  attacked  with 
ague  in  consequence  of  his  exposure  of  the  pre- 
vious night,  and  did  not  wish  to  repeat  so  dan- 
gerous an  experiment;  yet  he  was  willing  to 
accompany  him  on  horseback,  which  was  strik- 
ingly inconsistent,  to  say  the  least,  since  his  health 
would  suffer  no  more  from  one  journey  than  the 
other.  The  only  explanation  that  can  be  given 
is,  that  he  was  really  afraid  of  being  fired  upon 
on  his  way  to  or  from  the  Vulture,  since  she 
had  again  come  up  and  anchored  in  her  old  potd- 


232  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

tion,  He  said  he  was  perfectly  willing  to  cross 
the  river  with  him  at  King's  Ferry,  and  put  him 
safely  on  his  route  into  the  lower  country ;  but  as 
for  venturing  in  the  open  boat  again,  it  was  not 
to  be  thought  of. 

Andrd  was  distressed  beyond  description.  He 
pleaded  with  Smith  to  take  him  back  by  the  way 
he  came ;  but  it  was  to  no  purpose.  As  Smith 
had  promised  to  accompany  him  on  horseback 
for  a  considerable  distance,  he  closed  with  his 
offer  in  lieu  of  what  he  thought  the  safer  course. 
He  could  not  for  a  moment,  however,  banish 
the  thought  from  his  mind  that  he  was  within  the 
American  lines. 

He  came,  as  we  have  said,  in  a  military  coat, 
over  which  was  buttoned  a  long  blue  surtout; 
this  he  now  laid  aside,  at  the  suggestion  of  Smith 
himself,  borrowing  from  him  a  citizen's  coat, 
which  he  wore  in  its  stead.  There  were  three  in 
this  silent  little  party  going  down  from  Smith's 
house  to  the  river :  Smith,  Andre",  and  a  negro 
servant.  Andr£  could  not  help  feeling  the  humil- 
iation of  his  situation,  whenever  he  thought  of 
his  disguise.  At  sundown,  they  came  to  King's 
Ferry  and  crossed  to  Verplank's  Point.  They 


PLOTTING  TREASON.  233 

travelled  along  quietly  for  some  eight  miles,  on 
the  road  down  to  White  Plains ;  Smith  trying  to 
engage  him  in  conversation  on  the  war,  and 
Andr£  studiously  avoiding  all  the  answers  he 
could.  He  appeared  taciturn  and  thoughtful ; 
there  was  nothing  of  his  usual  gaiety  about  him. 
When  they  first  came  over  to  Verplank's  Point, 
Smith  went  up  to  the  works  and  called  on  Col- 
onel Livingston,  telling  him  that  he  was  going 
above  presently,  and  would  take  charge  of  what- 
ever letters  he  wished  to  send  ;  but  Andr£  and 
the  negro  rode  on.  Smith  hastily  excused  him- 
self to  Livingston  on  account  of  company,  and 
hurried  along  and  overtook  them  on  the  road. 

Towards  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  they  were 
stopped  by  a  patrolling  party,  near  Crompond. 
Being  challenged  by  the  sentinel,  Smith  got  off 
his  horse,  handed  the  bridle  to  his  servant,  and 
stepped  forward  and  asked  who  the  captain  was. 
"  Captain  Boyd  "  —  the  sentinel  answered.  The 
captain,  overhearing  his  name  called,  made  his 
appearance  arid  began  to  put  his  questions.  He 
was  exceedingly  inquisitive,  asking  Smith  who 
lie  was,  where  he  belonged,  and  what  was  his 
business.  Smith  answered  him  promptly,  and 
20* 


234  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

told  him  that  he  carried  a  pass  from  General 
Arnold.  Even  after  that,  the  captain  inquired 
how  far  he  was  going  that  night ;  Smith  replied, 
"  as  far  as  Major  Strang's,  or  Colonel  Drake's." 
The  captain  informed  him  that  Strang  was  away 
from  home,  and  that  Drake  had  removed  to 
another  part  of  the  country.  He  then  insisted  on 
seeing  the  passport,  and  went  on  a  little  ways 
with  the  party  to  a  house,  in  order  to  get  a  light. 
Andre"  began  to  be  seriously  alarmed,  and  fol- 
lowed on  with  trembling;  but  the  sight  of  the 
pass  seemed  to  mollify  the  captain  somewhat, 
although  he  was  still  as  full  of  curiosity  as  ever. 

He  took  Smith  aside  therefore,  and  begged  to 
know  what  could  be  the  urgent  business  that 
took  him  and  his  friend  down  so  perilous  a  road 
in  the  night  Smith  deceived  him  as  well  as  he 
could,  saying  that  he  and  his  friend  Mr.  Ander- 
son were  sent  by  General  Arnold  to  meet  a  per- 
son near  White  Plains,  from  whom  they  expected 
to  procure  important  information.  The  captain 
earnestly  advised  him  not  to  go  on  that  night,  for 
the  Cow  Boys  had  been  out  upon  the  road,  and  it. 
was  dangerous ;  and  further  recommended  that 
they  should  stay  till  morning  at  the  house  of  Mr. 


PLOTTING   TREASON.  235 

Andreas  Miller,  where  they  would  find  a  good  bed 
and  all  that  they  wanted.  Smith  went  and  told 
Andre  what  the  captain  said;  Andre  would  not 
hear  to  it  at  all ;  he  was  for  going  on  at  all  hazards. 
Finally  he  went  and  brought  Captain  Boyd,  and 
they  argued  on  it  together.  He  asked  Boyd 
which  was  the  safest  road  to  "White  Plains ;  the 
captain  told  him  that  both  were  very  dangerous, 
but  the  one  through  North  Castle  was  the  least 
so  ;  for  the  Cow  Boys,  or  lower  party ,  were  out  on 
the  Tarrytown  road,  and  had  done  a  good  deal 
of  mischief.  Andre  remembered  this  afterwards, 
and  acted  upon  it  in  choosing  his  route. 

Finally  Smith  declared  that  he  should  stop 
over  night  at  Miller's  house,  and  Andr£  found 
himself  forced  to  fall  in.  The  people  at  the 
house  treated  them  cordially,  and  offered  them 
the  best  they  had ;  but  being  called  out  of  bed  to 
entertain  travellers,  they  were  not  able  to  do  what 
they  otherwise  might.  Andre"  and  Smith  were 
compelled  to  sleep  in  the  same  bed,  and  Smith 
said  that  Andre*  lay  and  tossed  pretty  much  all 
the  rest  of  the  night.  At  earliest  dawn  he  arose, 
called  the  negro  servant,  and  ordered  the  horses 
to  be  got  ready  for  starting  on  again.  The  honest 


236  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

farmer  would  not  take  any  money  for  his  hospi- 
tality, and,  bidding  him  and  his  family  good 
morning,  they  struck  off  on  the  road  leading  ID 
Pine's  Bridge.  Andre's  heart  began  to  feel  light 
again  ;  Smith  declared  himself  astonished  at  the 
sudden  and  marked  change  in  his  demeanor.  He 
talked  gaily  of  whatever  came  into  his  mind. 
Thus  they  kept  on  till  they  came  within  two 
miles  and  a  half  of  Pine's  Bridge,  where  Smith 
resolved  to  bring  his  part  of  the  journey  to  an 
end.  They  went  up  to  a  farm  house  near  by, 
which  had  just  been  plundered,  and  got  a  bowl 
of  hasty  pudding  and  milk  to  eat,  after  which 
Smith  divided  his  funds  with  him,  and  bade 
Andre  farewell.  Here  they  parted. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

TAKEN   IN  THE   TOILS. 

SMITH,  with  his    servant,  hurried  back  to 
Fishkill  the   same   evening,  where,  as  we 
have  stated,  he  sent  his  family  in  order  to 
give  up  his  own  house  to  Arnold's  use.     On  his 
way  he  called   on    the   latter   at   the    Robinson 
House,  and  dined  with  him.     Arnold  was  thus 
put  in  possession  of  all  that  had  thus  far  trans- 
pired. 

Below  Pine's  Bridge,  it  was  the  Cow  Boys'  do- 
main. These  were  chiefly  British  refugees,  given 
to  stealing  cattle  from  the  peaceful  inhabitants, 
and  driving  them  off  to  New  York ;  and  hence 
their  very  appropriate  name.  There  was  another 
party,  called  the  "  Skinners ; "  these  pretended  to 
favor  the  American  cause,  whereas  they  even  laid 
in  with  the  Cow  Boys  to  rob  all  within  their 
reach.  By  these  two  lawless  parties  the  thirty- 
mile  strip  above  New  York,  known  as  the  "  Neu- 


238  BENEDICT 

tral  Ground,"  was  infested.  If  a  person  was 
friendly  to  the  cause  of  the  Americans,  the  Cow 
Boys  plundered  him;  and  if  he  declined  express- 
ing his  sentiments  from  motives  of  prudence,  the 
Skinners  stripped  him  on  account  of  his  want  of 
patriotism.  So  that  between  the  two,  the  unof- 
fending inhabitants  fared  badly  enough.  In  fact, 
the  barbarities  practised  on  the  Neutral  Ground 
formed  a  war  by  themselves,  even  more  dreadful 
to  those  who  suffered  than  the  open  conflicts  be- 
tween opposing  armies  in  the  field. 

It  was  through  this  ground  that  Andr£  now 
had  to  find  his  way.  He  crossed  Pine's  Bridge, 
and  had  gone  on  about  six  miles,  when  he  came 
to  a  place  where  the  road  forked  ;  the  left  led  to 
White  Plains,  into  the  interior  of  the  country, 
and  the  right  along  the  course  of  the  Hudson.  It 
was  his  purpose  originally  to  take  the  left  hand 
road,  and  so  Smith  had  advised  him  ;  but  remem- 
bering what  Captain  Boyd  had  told  them  the 
evening  before  about  the  Cow  Boys,  or  Lower 
Party,  being  out  on  the  Tarrytown  road,  he 
thought  he  should  be  safer  among  them  if  he 
should  happen  to  fall  in  their  way,  and  so  he  de- 
cided to  take  the  right  hand.  In  that  moment 


TAKEN   IN    THE   TOI^S.  239 

of  doubt  his  life  was  literally  poised.  Had  he 
taken  the  left  hand  route,  he  would  no  doubt 
have  got  on  unharmed. 

As  fortune  would  have  it,  on  that  very  morn- 
ing a  company  of  seven  young  farmers  in  that 
neighborhood  had  met  and  agreed  to  proceed  to  a 
certain  point  on  the  Tarrytown  road,  and  chal- 
lenge whoever  came  along.  Four  of  them  took 
their  position  on  a  hill  from  which  they  could  see 
the  country  for  a  wide  circuit ;  the  other  three, 
named  John  Paulding,  Isaac  Van  Wart,  and 
David  Williams,  stayed  down  near  the  road  run- 
ning along  by  the  banks  of  the  river.  Two  of 
these  three  were  playing  cards  in  the  bushes,  as 
the  best  way  to  wile  away  the  time,  and  the  other 
kept  a  sharp  lookout  on  the  road. 

The  story  has  been  told  so  much  better  than 
we  could  hope  to  tell  it  by  Paulding  himself,  that 
we  offer  no  excuse  for  giving  it  in  his  own  lan- 
guage :  — 

"  Myself,  Isaac  Van  Wart,  and  David  Wil- 
liams were  lying  by  the  side  of  the  road  about 
half  a  mile  above  Tarrytown,  and  about  fifteen 
miles  above  King's  Bridge,  on  Saturday  morning, 
between  nine  and  ten  o'clock,  the  23d  of  Septem- 


240  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

her.  We  had  lain  there  about  an  hour  and  a 
half,  as  near  as  I  can  recollect,  and  sa\v  several 
persons  we  were  acquainted  with,  whom  we  let 
pass.  Presently  one  of  the  young  men,  who 
were  with  me,  said,  —  "There  conies  a  gentle- 
manlike-looking man,  who  appears  to  be  well 
dressed,  and  has  boots  on,  and  whom  you  had 
better  step  out  and  stop,  if  you  don't  know  him.' 
On  that  I  got  up,  and  presented  my  firelock  at 
the  breast  of  the  person,  and  told  him  to  stand  ; 
and  then  I  asked  him  which  way  he  was  going. 
4  Gentlemen,'  said  he,  '  I  hope  you  belong  to  our 
party.'  I  asked  him  what  party.  He  said,  '  the 
Lower  Party.'  Upon  that  I  told  him  I  did. 
Then  he  said,  'I  am  a  British  officer  out  of  the 
country  on  particular  business,  and  I  hope  you 
will  not  detain  me  a  minute ; '  and  to  show  that 
he  was  a  British  officer,  he  pulled  out  his  watch. 
Upon  which  I  told  him  to  dismount.  He  then 
said,  'My  God!  I  must  do  anything  to  get 
along ! '  and  seemed  to  make  a  kind  of  laugh  of 
it,  and  pulled  out  General  Arnold's  pass,  which 
was  to  John  Anderson,  to  pass  all  guards  to 
White  Plains  and  below.  Upon  that  he  dis- 
mounted. Said  he,  '  Gentlemen,  you  had  best 


TAKEN   IN   THE   TOILS.  241 

let  me  go,  or  you  will  bring  yourselves  into 
trouble,  for  your  stopping  me  will  detain  the 
General's  business;'  and  said  he  was  going  to 
Dobb's  Ferry  to  meet  a  person  there  and  get 
intelligence  for  General  Arnold.  Upon  that  I 
told  him  I  hoped  he  would  not  be  offended,  that 
we  did  not  mean  to  take  anything  from  him ; 
and  I  told  him  there  were  many  bad  people,  who 
were  going  along  the  road,  and  I  did  not  know 
but  perhaps  he  might  be  one." 

Paulding  asked  Andr6  his  name,  and  he  told 
him  it  wa^s  '  John  Anderson ; '  he  also  said  he 
should  have  let  him  go  after  seeing  the  pass  in 
General  Arnold's  handwriting,  but  for  his  having, 
a  little  before,  called  himself  a  British  officer. 
Paulding  inferred,  from  his  pulling  out  his  watch, 
that  he  meant  by  it  only  to  show  that  he  was  a 
British  officer,  and  not  to  offer  it  as  a  bribe. 

Another  of  the  three  men,  David  Williams, 
gave  his  testimony  on  the  matter  to  the  same 
effect ;  and  added  some  further  particulars,  which 
we  subjoin  in  his  own  language  :  — 

"  We  took  him  into  the  bushes,  and  ordered 
him  to  pull  off  his  clothes,  which  he  did  ;  but  on 
searching  him  narrowly  we  could  not  find  any 
21 


242  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

sort  of  writing.  We  told  him  to  pull  off  his 
boots,  which  he  seemed  to  be  indifferent  about  ; 
but  we  got  one  boot  off,  and  searched  in  that 
boot,  and  could  find  nothing.  But  we  found 
there  were  some  papers  in  the  bottom  of  his 
stocking  next  to  his  foot,  on  which  we  made  him 
pull  his  stocking  off,  and  found  three  papers 
wrapped  up.  Mr.  Paulding  looked  at  the  con- 
tents, and  said  he  was  a  spy.  We  then  made 
him  pull  off  his  other  boot,  and  there  we  found 
three  more  papers  at  the  bottom  of  his  boot  with- 
in his  stocking. 

"  Upon  this  we  made  him  dress  himself,  and  I 
asked  him  what  he  would  give  us  to  let  him  go. 
He  said  he  would  give  us  any  sum  of  money.  I 
asked  him  whether  he  would  give  us  his  horse, 
saddle,  bridle,  watch,  and  one  hundred  guineas. 
He  said  '  yes,'  and  told  us  he  would  direct  them 
to  any  place,  even  if  it  was  that  very  spot,  so 
that  we  could  get  them.  I  asked  him  whether  he 
would  not  give  us  more.  He  said  he  would  give 
us  any  quantity  of  dry  goods,  or  any  sum  of 
money,  and  bring  it  to  any  place  that  we  might 
pitch  upon,  so  that  we  might  get  it.  Mr.  Pauld- 
ing answered,  'No;  if  you  would  give  us  tori 


TAKEN   IN   THE   TOILS  243 

thousand  guineas,  you  should  not  stir  one  step.' 
1  then  asked  the  person,  who  had  called  himself 
John  Anderson,  if  he  would  not  get  away  if  it 
lay  in  his  power.  He  answered,  '  Yes,  I  would.' 
I  told  him  I  did  not  intend  he  should.  While 
taking  him  along  we  asked  him  a  few  questions, 
and  we  stopped  under  a  shade.  He  begged  us 
not  to  ask  him  questions,  and  said  when  he  came 
to  any  commander  he  would  reveal  all. 

"  He  was  dressed  in  a  blue  overcoat,  and  a 
tight  body-coat,  that  was  of  a  kind  of  claret  color, 
though  a  rather  deeper  red  than  claret.  The  but- 
ton-holes were  laced  with  gold  tinsel,  and  the 
buttons  drawn  over  with  the  same  kind  of  lace. 
He  had  on  a  round  hat,  and  nankeen  waistcoat 
and  breeches,  with  a  flannel  waistcoat  and  draw- 
ers, boots,  and  thread  stockings." 

Having  secured  their  prisoner,  they  marched 
off  with  him  to  North  Castle,  which  was  the 
nearest  military  post,  and  nearly  a  dozen  miles 
inland.  Lieutenant  Colonel  Jameson  was  in 
command  there.  They  walked  off  through  ravines 
and  across  fields,  striking  the  straightest  track 
possible,  one  of  them  going  ahead  and  occasion- 
ally taking  the  horse  by  the  bridle,  while  the  rest 


244  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

distributed  themselves  on  either  side.  It  formed  a 
ludicrous  picture ;  and  Andre  afterwards  sketched 
it  with  a  pen,  and  presented  it  to  one  who  had 
been  with  him  during  a  part  of  his  captivity. 
They  put  him  several  questions,  but  he  declined 
answering  any  of  them.  At  noon  they  came  to 
a  farm-house;  the  housewife  was  struck  with  the 
sad  looks  of  the  youthful  prisoner,  and  urged  him 
to  share  then*  frugal  meal,  while  she  likewise 
apologized  for  having  nothing  better  to  offer  him  ; 
he  thanked  her  for  her  kindness,  but  declared  with 
a  shake  of  the  head  that  he  could  not  eat. 

When  they  reached  North  Castle,  Jameson  ex- 
amined the  papers  that  were  taken  from  his 
stocking,  and  recognized  the  handwriting  of  Gen- 
eral Arnold.  The  first  thing  he  did  was  to  send 
these  off  post  haste  to  Washington,  who  was  at 
Hartford.  Andr£  used  his  eloquence  with  great 
effect  upon  Jameson,  and  prevailed  on  him  next 
to  despatch  a  message  to  West  Point,  informing 
Arnold  that  Mr.  John  Anderson  had  been  de- 
tained as  already  described.  It  is  difficult  to 
understand  what  Jameson  could  have  been  think- 
ing of;  for  if  Arnold  was  really  a  participator  in 
the  plot,  this  was  merely  giving  him  warning  of 


TAKEN  IN   THE   TOILS.  245 

his  danger  and  allowing  him  time  to  make  his, 
escape.  Jameson  did  more  even  than  to  send  the 
letter :  he  sent  Andr6  along  with  it !  The  like  of 
such  infatuation  and  folly  has  rarely  been  seen. 

The  prisoner  had  been  gone  but  a  little  time, 
when  Major  Tallrnadge,  who  was  second  in  com- 
mand and  had  been  off  all  this  while  on  duty  at 
White  Plains,  returned  to  his  post.  The  moment 
he  heard  the  story,  he  seemed  to  understand  the 
whole  matter  ;  he  believed  that  Arnold  had  been 
guilty  of  a  treasonable  correspondence  with  the 
enemy.  He  insisted  that  Andr6  should  be  or- 
dered back  without  an  instant's  delay,  and 
pledged  himself  to  take  the  responsibility  on  his 
own  shoulders.  Jameson  was  hard  to  persuade, 
but  he  finally  yielded  to  Major  Tallmadge's  en- 
treaties ;  he  countermanded  his  order  sending 
Andrd  forward  to  Arnold,  and  had  him  brought 
back,  —  but  the  letter  he  suffered  to  go  on.  He 
refused  even  to  suspect  his  commander  of  a  crime 
of  so  heinous  a  character. 

Andre"  came  back  again  under  guard.    He  was 

confined  in  a  room,  and  began  to  pace  up  and 

down  the  floor,  lost  in  thought.    Major  Tallrnadge 

observed  his  step  closely,  and  saw  by  the  way  he 

21* 


246  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

turned  on  his  heel  that  he  was  a  military  charac- 
ter. Very  soon  after,  he  conducted  him  to  Lower 
Salem,  thinking  him  there  more  secure,  as  it  was 
still  farther  within  the  American  lines.  They 
reached  this  place,  after  travelling  during  the 
night,  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Here  he 
was  forced  to  share  the  room  of  Mr.  Bronson, 
having  but.  one  window  and  one  door,  and  which 
on  that  account  could  be  more  easily  guarded. 
Andrd  was  tired  when  he  was  placed  in  this 
room,  and  said  but  little;  he  was  troubled  at 
seeing  the  soiled  condition  of  his  clothes,  and 
accepted  the  loan  of  a  change  from  Bronson, 
while  his  linen  and  nankeen  underclothes  were 
gone  to  be  washed.  After  this  he  began  to  feel 
a  little  more  revived,  and  showed  more  disposi- 
tion to  talk. 

His  affable  manners  pleased  all  who  saw  him. 
He  was  genial  and  gentlemanly,  and  indulged  in  a 
strain  of  agreeable  conversation  that  won  them 
over  to  him  at  once.  It  was  while  he  was  con- 
fined here  at  Lower  Salem  that  he  sketched  the 
ludicrous  scene  of  his  being  led  away  on  horse- 
back into  captivity. 

Andrd  was  aware  by  this  time  that  the  papers 


TAKEN   IN   THE   TOILS.  247 

found  on  him  had  been  sent  off  to  Washington, 
and  he  determined  to  throw  off  all  further  dis- 
guise. He  therefore  sat  down  and  wrote  a  letter 
to  Washington,  telling  him  who  he  was,  and 
what  was  his  rank,  though  he  honorably  abstained 
from  drawing  Arnold  into  the  gulf  of  his  own 
guilt,  as  he  easily  might.  He  explained  that  he 
was  in  no  sense  a  spy,  but  had  come  to  meet  a 
person  who  was  to  give  him  intelligence  on 
ground  which  neither  army  pretended  to  occupy. 
His  attempt  to  prove  that  disguising  his  dress 
and  name  was  not  necessarily  against  him,  since 
he  did  it  only  to  get  himself  beyond  the  American 
lines,  into  which  he  was  carried  against  his  own 
will  and  stipulation,  —  was  quite  ingenious,  how- 
ever inconclusive  it  might  have  been. 

He  showed  the  letter  to  Major  Tallmadge 
when  he  had  finished  it,  and  immediately  felt 
relieved  of  a  great  load.  From  that  moment  he 
was  himself  again  :  lively,  cheerful,  talkative,  and 
winning.  Those  who  had  him  in  charge  never 
forgot  to  their  dying  day  the  impressions  his 
engaging  manners  and  conversation  made  upon 
their  hearts. 

Washington    set   out   from    Hartford   on   his 


248  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

return  to  the  Hudson  two  or  three  days  earlier 
than  he  had  intended,  owing  to  a  disappointment 
in  relation  to  the  operations  of  the  French  fleet, 
about  which  he  had  gone  on  to  confer  with  the 
French  commander.  Lafayette  was  with  him,  as 
were  also  General  Knox  and  his  suite ;  with 
these  two  in  particular  he  was  wont  to  unbend. 
He  travelled,  in  going  to  Hartford,  what  was 
called  the  lower  road,  which  run  through  Dan- 
bury  to  Peekskill,  and  it  was  thought  he  would 
return  by  the  same  way ;  instead  of  that,  how- 
ever, he  took  the  upper  road,  which  led  him 
through  the  upper  highlands  to  West  Point.  On 
the  afternoon  of  the  24th  of  September,  he 
reached  Fishkill,  eighteen  miles  distant  from 
Arnold's  headquarters.  Word  was  sent  on  that 
the  commander-in-chief  would  be  there  to  break- 
fast on  the  next  morning. 

The  next  day  they  were  in  the  saddle  as  soon 
as  it  was  light,  and  on  their  way  to  the  Robinson 
House.  Their  course  lay  through  the  Highlands, 
and  the  scenery  and  the  morning  air  were  invig- 
orating. They  had  come  within  a  mile  of  the 
Robinson  House,  when  Washington  was  ob- 
served, instead  of  keeping  on  the  road,  to  turn 


TAKEN  itf  THE  TOILS.  249 

his  horse's  head  down  a  cross  road  leading  to  the 
river.  Lafayette  spoke  to  him,  and  told  him  that 
he  was  on  the  wrong  road,  adding  that  they  had 
best  keep  along,  for  Mrs.  Arnold  would  be  wait- 
ing breakfast.  "  Ah !  you  young  men  are  all  in 
love  with  Mrs.  Arnold!"  said  Washington  in 
reply.  "  I  see  you  are  eager  to  be  with  her  as 
soon  as  possible.  Go  and  breakfast  with  her, 
and  tell  her  not  to  wait  for  me ;  I  must  ride 
down  and  examine  the  redoubts  on  this  side  of 
the  river,  but  will  be  with  her  shortly." 

Lafayette  and  General  Knox,  however,  turned 
off  with  Washington  ;  but  Colonel  Hamilton  and 
the  aide  of  Lafayette  kept  on,  and  presented  to 
the  fair  hostess  their  commander's  apology.  They 
eat  down  to  breakfast  as  desired,  —  Arnold  and 
his  wife,  and  Hamilton  and  McHenry.  Mrs. 
Arnold  had  been  there  not  more  than  four  or  five 
days,  having  come  from  Philadelphia  with  her 
infant  child,  some  six  months  old.  She  was  as 
agreeable  and  chatty  as  ever  ;  but  Arnold  himself 
sat  at  the  table  gloomy  and  taciturn.  He  had 
reason  to  be  thoughtful,  for  this  was  the  day  on 
which  the  plot  with  Sir  Henry  Clinton  was  to  be 
carried  out,  and  the  enemy's  boats  were  to  com* 


250  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

up  the  river.  Washington  had  come  back  from 
Hartford  two  days  earlier  than  he  had  expected 
him,  and  his  visit  to  West  Point  now  was  going 
to  throw  all  his  plans  into,  disorder. 

While  he  was  plunged  in  this  sea  of  doubt  and 
perplexity,  a  messenger  on  horseback  dashed  up 
to  the  gate,  alighted  and  delivered  a  letter.  It 
was  the  one  Lieut.  Colonel  Jameson  had  written 
him  respecting  the  capture  of  Andre",  in  which  he 
also  stated  that  the  papers  found  in  the  prisoner's 
boot  had  been  sent  on  to  Washington  at  Hart- 
ford. 

Arnold  took  the  letter  and  broke  the  seal  in  the 
presence  of  the  company.  It  was  all  he  could  do 
to  suppress  his  agitation,  as  he  eagerly  read  its 
contents.  Few  men  could  have  gone  through 
what  he  went  throug*h  in  that  single  moment,  and 
not  betrayed  themselves.  He  immediately  rose 
from  the  table,  went  to  Mrs.  Arnold's  cham- 
ber, and  thence  sent  a  servant  down  to  call  her 
up  to  him.  She  obeyed  the  summons,  and  thus 
the  guests  were  left  alone  at  their  morning  meal. 
When  she  was  in  the  room,  he  told  her  that  he 
was  a  ruined  man,  and  that  instant  flight  was  all 
that  could  save  him  from  death !  She  swooned 


TAKEN  IN  THE  TOILS.  251 

at  the  intelligence,  and  fell  helpless  to  the  floor. 
He  did  not  stop  to  assist  her,  but  hurried  down 
stairs  and  sent  up  the  messenger  that  had  just 
arrived,  to  her  aid.  Without  a  moment's  delay 
he  threw  himself  into  the  saddle  of  the  horse 
standing  at  the  door,  and  dashed  down  to  the 
river  by  a  path  that  goes  by  the  name  of  Arnold's 
Path  to  this  day*  His  six-oared  barge  was 
moored  close  by,  and  he  ordered  his  oarsmen  to 
row  with  all  speed  down  to  Teller's  Point. 

He  had  hardly  gone,  when  Washington  arrived 
at  the  house.  Learning  that  Mrs.  Arnold  was 
sick,  and  that  her  husband  had  gone  over  to 
West  Point  —  as  he  said  —  to  meet  him,  he  ate 
his  breakfast  hurriedly,  and  went  back  again 
across-  the  river.  He  left  word  that  he  should  be 
with  the  rest  of  them  at  dinner.  As  he  went 
over,  he  noticed  that  no  salute  was  fired  at  his 
approach,  as  expected.  When  he  landed,  too,  he 
saw  that  no  proper  reception  had  been  made  for 
him.  Colonel  Lamb  came  down  the  bank  alone 
to  meet  him,  expressing  the  greatest  surprise  at 
his  arrival;  had  he  known  of  his  coming  before- 
hand, he  should  have  received  him  in  a  very  dif- 
ferent manner.  "Is  not  General  Arnold  here?" 


252  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

inquired  Washington.  Lamb  answered  that  he 
Was  not,  and  had  not  been  there  in  two  days. 
Washington  was  perplexed,  yet  he  suspected 
nothing.  He  stayed  at  the  fortress  through  the 
morning,  and  then  went  over  again  to  dinner. 

Meantime  the  papers  that  Jameson  had  sent  to 
Hartford,  and  that  missed  Washington  on  his 
way  back  in  consequence  of  his  travelling  the 
other  road,  had  reached  the  Robinson  House; 
and  as  they  were  said  to  be  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance, Hamilton  opened  and  examined  them. 
The  messenger,  on  finding  that  Washington  had 
'come  back  to  West  Point,  turned  upon  his  course, 
passing  through  Lower  Salem  where  Andrd  was 
confined;  and  now  he  took  Andrews  letter  to 
Washington  along  with  him,  too;  so  that  this 
letter,  together  with  the  papers  that  were  found 
on  him,  told  who  he  was  at  once. 

As  Washington  and  his  party  were  coming  up 
from  the  river  to  the  house,  Hamilton  met  them. 
He  spoke  briefly  to  the  commander-in-chief  in  a 
low  voice,  and  both  withdrew  in  private  as  soon 
as  they  got  in.  Washington  was  astounded,  yet 
he  preserved  his  calmness,  as  the  damning  facts 
Were  laid  before  him.  He  !*'»'ui  joined  his  mili- 


TAKEN   IN   THE  TOILS.  253 

tary  party  again,  and,  taking  Lafayette  and  Knox 
aside,  communicated  to  them  the  whole  story, 
putting  the  papers  into  their  hands.  He  only 
exclaimed,  —  "  Whom  can  we  trust  now  ?  " 
but  that  exclamation  was  crowded  with  meaning. 
Hoping  to  arrest  the  flight  of  the  traitor,  he 
sent  Colonel  Hamilton  at  the  top  of  his  horse's 
speed  down  to  Verplanck's  Point,  below  the 
Highlands,  which  commanded  the  river  at  a  nar- 
row part ;  he  was  to  order  Livingston  to  play  his 
battery  upon  the  boat  and  bring  it  to.  Dinner 
was  soon  after  announced,  and  they  all  sat  down 
to  the  table.  Washington  was  as  self-possessed 
in  the  midst  of  so  terrible  a  discovery  as  he  ever 
was.  "  Come,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  pleasantly, 
"  since  Mrs.  Arnold  is  unwell,  and  the  general  is 
absent,  let  us  sit  down  without  ceremony."  Hav- 
ing heard  of  Mrs.  Arnold's  situation,  he  went  up 
stairs  to  endeavor  to  soothe  her  feelings;  the 
meeting  was  a  most  remarkable  and  exciting  one. 
Hamilton  wrote  of  her  condition,  that  "  she,  for  a 
considerable  time,  lost  herself.  The  general  went 
up  to  see  her,  and  she  upbraided  him  with  being 
in  a  plot  to  murder  her  child.  One  moment  she 
raved,  another  she  melted  into  tears.  Sometimes 
22 


254  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

she  pressed  her  infant  to  her  bosom  and  lamented 
its  fate,  occasioned  by  the  imprudence  of  its 
father,  in  a  manner  that  would  have  pierced 
insensibility  itself.  .All  the  sweetness  of  beauty, 
all  the  loveliness  of  innocence,  all  the  tenderness 
of  a  wife,  and  all  the  fondness  of  a  mother, 
showed  themselves  in  her  appearance  and  con- 
duct." To  Washington  it  must  have  been  pain- 
ful indeed. 

Hamilton  meanwhile  spurred  on  to  Verplanck's 
Point,  but  he  arrived  there  too  late.  Arnold  had 
passed  some  time  before,  having  got  some  six 
hours  the  start, ;  it  was  ten  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing when  he  fled,  and  when  Hamilton  reached 
the  Point  it  was  four  in  the  afternoon.  On 
entering  the  boat,  Arnold  told  his  oarsmen  to 
row  with  all  speed  down  the  river,  for  he  had 
important  business  on  board  the  Vulture.  He 
promised  them  two  gallons  of  rum,  if  they  would 
do  their  best.  As  he  passed  Verplanck's  Point, 
he  displayed  a  white  handkerchief,  which  gave 
his  boat  all  the  protection  needed.  He  reached 
the  Vulture  in  safety,  and  told  the  whole  story  to 
Capt.  Sutherland  ;  and  then  he  gave  up  his  oars- 
men as  prisoners!  Few  acts  could  have  been 


TAKEN   IN    THE    TOILS.  255 

meaner  than  this.  The  men  protested,  saying 
that  they  came  under  the  protection  of  a  flag  of 
truce ;  but  they  were  taken  on  board  and  carried 
down  to  New  York  the  same  night.  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  however,  showed  his  scorn  for  such  an 
act  by  immediately  liberating  and  sending  them 
back  again. 

A  flag  came  over  from  the  Vulture  to  Ver- 
planck's  Point  while  Hamilton  was  there,  bring- 
ing a  letter  from  Arnold  to  Washington.  He 
still  protested  his  love  for  his  country,  but  be- 
lieved he  would  be  judged  harshly  by  the  world. 
He  asked  no  favor  for  himself,  but  simply  pro- 
tection for  his  wife  from  every  insult  and  injury 
that  a  mistaken  vengeance  of  his  country  might 
expose  her  to.  "  She  is  as  good,"  said  he,  "  and 
as  innocent  as  an  angel,  and  is  incapable  of 
doing  wrong."  And  he  begged  that  she  might 
be  permitted  to  return  to  her  friends  in  Philadel- 
phia, or  go  to  him,  as  she  chose.  She  set  out  in 
a  few  days  for  her  father's  house  in  Philadelphia. 
With  this  came  also  another  letter  from  Col. 
Beverly  Robinson,  asking  for  the  release  of  Andre* 
on  the  ground  that  he  had  gone  ashore  under  the 
protection  of  a  flag  of  truce,  and  at  the  invitation 
of  an  American  general 


256  BENEDICT   AKNOLD. 

The  hour  was  one  of  the  greatest  doubt  and 
danger.  No  one  could  tell  how  far  tin-  plot  had 
extended  itself.  It  was  not  possible  to  say  who 
were  innocent,  and  who  were  guilty.  Washing- 
ton now  knew  that  the  enemy  had  all  the  intelli- 
gence they  wanted  of  the  fortifications  at  West 
Point,  and  took  instant  measures  to  secure  their 
safety.  He  sent  orders  over  to  have  the  force 
there  disposed  to  the  best  advantage  to  guard 
against  a  sudden  attack,  especially  on  that  very 
night.  He  also  issued  orders  to  General  Greene, 
who  was  in  command  at  Tappan,  to  put  a  divi- 
sion of  his  troops  in  motion  at  once,  and  to  hold 
the  rest  in  readiness.  And  finally  he  sent  word 
to  Col.  Jameson  to  take  all  possible  care  that 
Andrd  was  neither  rescued  nor  made  his  own 
escape;  and  to  send  him  to  that  place  by  a 
strong  guard  by  some  road  not  generally  trav- 
elled. The  order  reached  Jameson  at  midnight, 
and  Andr£  was  at  once  apprised  of  its  nature ;  he 
started  out  of  bed  and  prepared  to  obey  the  sum- 
mons promptly.  Before  he  left,  he  offered  his 
thanks  to  the  gentlemen  around  him  for  their 
kindness,  and  assured  them  that  he  never  could 
meet  them  anywhere  again  as  enemies.  It  was 


TAKEN   IN   THE  TOILS.  257 

at  dark  and  rainy  night,  and  the  travelling  was 
difficult.  They  reached  the  Robinson  House  the 
next  morning,  the  26th.  Washington  would  not 
see  the  prisoner,  however,  and  did  not  see  him 
from  first  to  last.  On  the  same  evening  he  was 
taken  over  to  West  Point,  and  remained  there 
till  the  morning  of  the  28th,  when  he  was  carried 
in  a  boat  down  to  Stony  Point,  and  thence  under 
an  escort  to  Tappan. 

Joshua  H.  Smith  was  likewise  arrested  on  the 
night  of  the  25th,  at  Fishkill,  and  taken  to  the 
same  place.  Washington  gave  directions  to  have 
them  kept  in  separate  houses,  and  on  no  account 
to  be  allowed  to  see  one  another.  "  I  would 
wish,"  said  he,  "  the  room  for  Mr.  Andr3  to  be  a 
decent  one,  and  that  he  may  be  treated  with 

civility." 

22* 


CHAPTER    XII. 

ANDRE'S  EXECUTION. 

MAJOR   Tallmadge   had    personal  charge 
of  Andre",  from  the  hour  he  left  his  bed 
at    Lower    Salem    till   the   day   of    his 
execution.      They  were   both   young   men,  and 
very  soon  conceived  an  ardent   attachment  for 
one    another.     Tallmadge   thought   his   prisoner 
one  of  the  most  delightful  companions  he  had 
over  seen. 

They  went  on  board  the  barge  to  go  down  to 
King's  Ferry,  on  the  morning  of  the  28th.  The 
two  youthful  officers  sat  side  by  side  on  the 
boat's  after-seat.  While  sailing  silently  past  the 
frowning  heights  of  West  Point,  with  the  fortress 
in  view,  Tallmadge  asked  Andrd  if  he  should 
have  taken  a  part  in  the  attack,  if  Arnold  had 
carried  out  his  plan.  Andrd  answered  him  that 
he  should  5  and  he  pointed  out  the  piece  of  level 


ANDKE'S  EXECUTION.  259 

ground  on  which  he  expected  to  land  with  a 
select  body  of  troops,  and  from  which  he  would 
have  gone  by  a  certain  route  up  the  mountain  to 
a  place  overlooking  the  entire  parade-ground  of 
the  fortress! 

Tallmadge  was  much  excited  with  hearing 
Andre*  tell  what  he  was  going  to  do,  and  asked 
him  what  was  to  have  been  his  reward ;  "  noth- 
ing but  military  glory,"  said  he ;  "  the  thanks  of 
his  general  and  the  approbation  of  his  king, 
would  have  been  a  rich  reward  for  such  an 
undertaking." 

Reaching  King's  Ferry,  they  found  an  escort 
of  dragoons  and  started  off  at  once  for  Tappan 
in  their  company.  Riding  along  through  a 
mountain  defile,  Andrd  ventured  to  ask  Major 
Tallmadge  what  he  thought  would  be  the  result 
of  this  affair,  and  in  what  light  he  would  be  con- 
sidered by  General  Washington,  and  a  military 
tribunal,  if  one  should  be  ordered.  Tallmadge 
tried  to  evade  the  question  for  a  time,  but  being 
urged  for  an  answer,  he  finally  said  as  follows:  — 

"  I  had  a  much-loved  classmate  in  Yale  Col- 
lege, by  the  name  of  Nathan  Hale,  who  entered 
the  army  in  1775.  Immediately  after  the  battle 


260  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

of  Long  Island,  General  Washington  wanted  in- 
formation respecting  the  strength,  position,  and 
probable  movements  of  the  enemy.  Captain 
Hale  tendered  his  services,  went  over  to  Brooklyn, 
and  was  taken,  just  as  he  was  passing  the  out- 
posts of  the  enemy  on  his  return.  Said  I  with 
emphasis,  — '  Do  you  remember  the  sequel  of  the 
story?'  'Yes,'  said  Andre",  *  he  was  hanged  as 
a  spy !  But  you  surely  do  not  consider  his  case 
and  mine  alike  ? '  '  Yes,  precisely  similar ;  and 
similar  will  be  your  fate!'  'He  endeavored,' 
adds  Tallmadge,  '  to  answer  my  remarks,  but  it 
\v;is  manifest  he  was  more  troubled  in  spirit  than 
I  had  ever  seen  him  before.  We  stopped  at  the 
Hove  to  dine  and  let  the  horse-guard  refresh. 
While  there,  Andr£  kept  reviewing  his  shabby 
dress,  and  finally  remarked  to  me,  that  he  was 
positively  ashamed  to  go  to  the  head-quarters  of 
the  American  army  in  such  a  plight  I  called  my 
servant  and  directed  him  to  bring  my  dragoon 
cloak,  which  I  presented  to  Major  Andre".  This 
he  refused  to  take  for  some  time ;  but  I  insisted 
on  it,  and  he  finally  put  it  on  and  rode  in  it  to 
Tappan." 

Andr£  was  confined  at  Tappan  in  a  building 


ANDRE'S  EXECUTION.  261 

which  is  still  pointed  out  as  the  "  76  Stone  House," 
and  treated  with  the  utmost  kindness  and  sym- 
pathy. Washington  reached  the  camp  as  soon 
as  his  preparations  for  the  safety  of  West  Point 
were  concluded,  and  immediately  summoned  a 
board  of  general  officers  to  inquire  into  the  case ; 
they  were  to  say  in  what  light  Andre*  should  be 
regarded,  and  what  disposition  should  be  made 
of  him.  This  board  of  officers  met  on  the  29th, — 
the  next  day.  Meantime  Sir  Henry  Clinton  des- 
patched a  letter  to  Washington  from  New  York, 
covering  another  from  Arnold,  demanding  the  re- 
lease of  Andrd  on  the  ground  of  his  having  been 
invited  within  the  American  lines  by  an  officer, 
under  the  sanction  of  a  flag  of  truce.  Arnold 
likewise  argued  to  the  same  effect,  insisting  that 
he  had  a  perfect  right  to  send  for  Andr£  under 
the  protection  of  a  flag,  and  concluding  that  he 
had  no  doubt  the  prisoner  would  be  forthwith 
released  and  sent  to  New  York. 

But  neither  letter  moved  the  mind  of  Wash- 
ington. The  Board  met  as  ordered ;  General 
Greene  presided ;  six  major-generals  and  eight 
brigadiers  composed  the  court.  Andre  was 
brought  before  them,  but  told  that  he  need  an- 


262  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

s\ver  no  questions  which  would  eren  embarrass 
his  feelings.  He  carefully  concealed  everything 
that  might  implicate  others  in  his  own  guilt,  but 
frankly  confessed  all  the  facts  that  related  to  him- 
self. On  his  confession  alone  the  board  made  up 
their  report,  which  was  as  follows :  —  "that  Major 
Andre",  adjutant-general  of  the  British  army, 
ought  to  be  considered  a  spy  from  the  enemy, 
and  ought  to  suffer  death. " 

Andre  did  not  expect  this,  yet  he  preserved  his 
calmness  still.  His  conduct  was  manly  to  the 
end.  "  I  foresee  my  fate,"  said  he,  "  and  though 
I  pretend  not  to  play  the  hero,  or  to  be  indifferent 
about  life,  yet  I  am  reconciled  to  whatever  may 
happen ;  conscious  that  misfortune,  not  guilt,  has 
brought  it  upon  me." 

He  expressed  much  tender  regard  for  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  who,  he  said,  "  had  been  too  good  to 
him."  He  could  not  bear  that  his  commander 
should  ever  reproach  himself,  or  -  that  others 
should  reproach  him,  for  the  fate  with  which  he 
was  now  overtaken.  He  would  not  leave  a  sting 
in  his  mind  that  should  embitter  his  future  days. 
He  burst  into  tears  while  saying  this,  and 
requested  permission  to  write  to  Sir  Henry,  which 


ANDRE'S  EXECUTION.  263 

was  granted.  In  the  letter  he  spoke  tenderly  of 
his  mother  and  three  sisters,  hoping  they  would 
be  treated  with  kindness.  Washington  sent  a 
letter  to  Clinton  along  with  his,  acquainting  the 
British  Commander  with  the  finding  of  the  court, 
but  saying  nothing  of  the  sentence.  Captain 
Ogden  was  selected  to  bear  these  two  letters  to 
the  enemy,  and  directed  to  ascertain  from  the 
officer  to  whom  he  delivered  them,  if  Sir  Henry 
Clinton  would  be  willing  to  give  up  Arnold  on 
condition  of  Andre's  release.  Clinton  received 
the  proposal,  but  declared  it  would  be  both  un- 
military  and  a  breach  of  honor  to  surrender  one 
who  had  deserted  from  an  enemy  to  his  own 
camp. 

Washington  made  an  attempt  to  capture  Ar- 
nold, resolved,  if  it  could  be  done  and  he  could 
be  brought  back  to  the  American  camp  alive,  to 
release  Anclrd  and  make  a  merited  public  example 
of  the  traitor  himself.  To  this  end  a  young  Vir- 
ginian named  John  Champe,  but  twenty -four 
years  of  age,  and  a  sergeant-major  of  cavalry, 
was  induced  by  Major  Lee  to  peril  his  life,  and 
undertook  the  dangerous  task  with  a  fixed  deter- 
mination to  bring  back  the  victim  to  the  com- 
mander-in-chief. 


264  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

Ill  order  to  give  the  whole  transaction  an  air 
of  naturalness,  and  keep  the  plan  a  secret  from 
his  comrades,  young  Champe  pretended  to  be  a 
deserter.  It  was  his  design,  as  soon  as  he  "reached 
New  York,  to  enlist  in  a  corps  which  Arnold  was 
at  that  very  time  trying  to  raise,  and  procure 
some  situation  in  the  same  that  would  place  him 
near  the  traitor's  person.  When  the  right  mo- 
ment eaino,  he  was  to  seize  Arnold  during  the 
night,  Ihrust  a  gag  in  his  mouth,  bind  him,  and 
carry  him  in  a  boat  across  the  Hudson  into  Ber- 
gen woods,  in  New  Jersey.  To  carry  out  this 
hold  project,  the  only  help  he  was  to  have  was  to 
come  from  a  man  belonging  in  Newark. 

The  whole  affair  was  kept  as  secret  as  possible. 
Washington  was  anxious  to  learn  its  result  from 
the  time  it  was  entered  upon.  But  he  was  stren- 
uous in  insisting  that  on  no  account  should  Ar- 
nold be  brought  back  otherwise  than  alive.  "  No 
circumstance  whatever,"  said  he,  "shall  obtain 
my  consent  to  his  being  put  to  death.  The  idea 
which  would  accompany  such  an  event,  would 
be,  that  ruffians  had  been  hired  to  assassinate 
him.  My  aim  is  to  make  a  public  example  of 
him,  and  this  should  be  strongly  impressed  upon 
those  who  are  employed  to  bring  him  off. " 


ANDRE'S  EXECUTION.  265 

Sergeant  Charnpe  took  his  cloak,  valise,  and 
orderly  book  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  and,  with 
all  possible  caution  went  and  untied  his  horse, 
sprang  on  his  back,  and  was  off.  Major  Lee  then 
went  to  bed.  The  brave  young  sergeant  had  all 
sorts  of  dangers  to  run,  and  the  chances  were 
even,  at  best,  if  he  could  get  beyond  the  lines 
without  either  detection  or  pursuit.  The  guards 
on  the  road  were  thickly  stationed,  additional 
watchfulness  having  everywhere  followed  the  dis- 
covery of  Arnold's  perfidy. 

Major  Lee  had  been  abed  but  a  little  more 
than  half  an  hour,  when  an  officer  came  up  to 
his  quarters  in  the  greatest  haste  and  alarm, 
saying  that  one  of  the  guard  had  challenged  a 
dragoon,  who,  instead  of  giving  the  countersign, 
put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  escaped.  In  order  to 
give  the  sergeant  all  the  time  he  could,  Lee  pre* 
tended  to  believe  that  the  guard  must  have  taken 
somebody  else  for  a  dragoon,  and  thought  it  use- 
less to  make  a  stir  about  nothing.  But  the  officer 
who  brought  the  news  persisted  in  his  statement, 
until  Lee  found  it  would  not  do  1o  deny  him  an 
investigation.  So  he  told  him  to  call  up  all  the 
dragoons,  and  run  through  the  roll  to  see  if  any 
23 


266  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

one  was  missing.  In  a  few  minutes  he  came 
bark  bringing  word  that  the  sergeant,  himself  was 
not  to  be  found,  and  had  carried  off  with  him  his 
horse,  arms,  baggage  and  orderly  book. 

Much  against  his  \vish,  Major  Lee  allowed  a 
party  to  set  out  in  pursuit ;  but  he  threw  as  many 
petty  obstacles  in  their  way  as  his  ingenuity 
could  devise,  and  so  managed  that  Champe 
finally  had  a  full  hour  the  start  of  them.  Besides 
this,  the  party  in  pursuit  had  to  stop  along  the 
route  to  see  if  they  could  follow  the  deserter  by 
his  horse's  tracks;  this  likewise  gave  Champe  an 
•advantage. 

They  rode  on  in  hot  pursuit  until  the  day 
dawned.  Then  they  came  to  the  brow  of  a  hill, 
and  strained  their  gaze  to  see  if  they  could  dis- 
cover any  signs  of  him.  As  luck  would  have  it, 
there  he  was,  not  more  than  half  a  mile  ahead ! 
Plying  the  spur  and  urging  on  their  horses  at  the 
top  of  their  speed,  they  began  very  rapidly  to 
gain  on  him.  But  just  at  the  moment  they  saw 
Champe  in  advance,  he  happened  to  see  them ; 
and  he  also  put  his  horse  to  his  highest  mettle. 
It  was  a  fearful  race.  Already  he  saw  over  his 
shoulder  that  his  chances  for  escape  were  small 


EXECUTION.  267 

He  was  on  the  river  road,  and  a  couple  of  British 
galleys  lay  at  anchor  near  the  shore.  One  of  his 
pursuers  was  about  two  hundred  yards  behind 
him.  His  purpose  was  quickly  taken.  He  threw 
himself  from  his  horse,  dashed  headlong  into  a 
bog,  and,  plunging  into  the  river,  called  out  to 
the  men  on  board  the  galleys  to  help  him.  They 
immediately  sent  out  a  boat  and  took  him  on 
board. 

The  pursuers  returned  without  their  prisoner, 
but  greatly  chagrined  at  thinking  that  they  had 
lost  him.  Champe  went  to  New  York,  procured 
exactly  such  a  situation  as  he  desired,  and  had 

fixed   the  night   on  which  his  plan   was   to  be 
i 

carried  into  execution.  Arnold  was  to  be  sur- 
prised at  night  in  a  garden  in  which  he  was  wont 
to  walk,  taken  on  board  a  boat,  and  carried 
straight  across  the  river.  Lee  was  all  ready  and 
waiting  at  the  appointed  place,  with  three  dra- 
goons and  six  horses  to  assist  in  carrying  out  the 
enterprise.  But  all  was  overturned  by  Arnold's 
removing  his  quarters  to  another  part  of  the  city, 
on  the  very  day  which  was  to  crown  the  under- 
taking. 

Champe    found    much   difficulty  in   deserting 


BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

back  again  to  the  Americans,  but  he  did  so  after 
a  time,  and  was  rewarded  most  generously  by 
Washington  for  his  bravery  and  the  temporary 
sacrifice  of  reputation  to  which  he  had  so  nobly 
submitted.  It  was  a  deed  that  drew  upon  him 
universal  admiration. 

It  was  determined  that  the  execution  of  Andre 
should  take  place  at  five  o'clock  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  1st  of  October ;  but  Washington  received 
a  second  letter  from  Clinton,  dated  Sept.  30th, 
stating  lhat  there  were  some  circumstances  con- 
nected with  the  case  which  had  not  yet  been  laid 
before  the  board ;  and  he  stated  that  he  should 
send  up  a  commission  on  the  following  day  to 
Dobb's  Ferry,  to  lay  these  facts  before  Washing- 
ton, or  whomsoever  he  might  appoint.  On  this 
account  the  execution  was  delayed  ;  Washington 
\vas  anxious  to  allow  the  prisoner  every  chance 
he  had. 

The  next  day,  General  Greene  went  down  to 
meet  the  commission  that  were  sent  by  Clinton, 
at  Dobb's  Ferry.  They  came  up  the  river  in  a 
schooner  with  a  flag  of  truce,  having  Colonel 
Beverly  Robinson  on  board.  But  one  landed, 
General  Robertson,  he  being  the  only  military 


ANDRE'S  EXECUTION.  260 

man  on  board.  Greene  and  Robertson  had  a 
long  interview,  but  nothing  new  was  presented  : 
Greene  left  and  promised  to  report  to  Washing- 
ton all  that  had  been  urged. 

He  also  bore  a  letter  from  Arnold,  in  which  the 
traitor  went  through  a  long  argument  to  show 
that  he  had  a  right  to  do  as  he  did,  and  that 
Andre"  ought  not  to  suffer  for  it.  Arnold  added 
that  if  Andre"  was  finally  executed,  it  would  be 
because  of  the  passion  and  resentment  of  the 
board  that  had  condemned  him  ;  and  he  pledged 
himself  to  retaliate  to  the  fullest  extent  on  such 
Americans  as  might  thereafter  fall  into  his  power. 
Arnold  further  went  through  the  mockery  of  ten- 
dering his  resignation  as  a  major-general  in  the 
American  army,  and  added,  with  matchless  im- 
pudence, that  he  was  actuated  by  the  same 
principle,  in  deserting  to  the  enemy,  which  had 
been  the  governing  rule  of  his  conduct  during  the 
contest ! 

Arnold's  letter  was  treated  with  silent  scorn  ; 
but  Greene  wrote  briefly  to  General  Robertson, 
saying  that  the  conference  he  had  had  with  him 
was  reported  with  exactness  to  "Washington,  but 

23* 


270  ]5ENEt>ICT?   ARNOLl). 

that  his  mind  was  nowise  changed.  Robertson 
believed  that  Greene  had  nevertheless  failed  to 
convey  every  circumstance  to  Washington,  and 
so  addressed  the  latter  a  statement  of  his  own ; 
this  done,  he  and  his  party  returned  to  New  York 
by  the  way  they  came. 

By  this  delay,  Andrd  gained  a  respite  of  nearly 
a  whole  day.  He  was  calm  and  resigned,  be- 
traying no  loss  either  of  courage* or  spirits.  His 
continued  cheerfulness  was  a  wonder  to  all  who 
came  in  contact  with  him.  During  the  day  he 
drew  a  hasty  pen-and-ink  sketch  of  himself, 
seated  at  the  table  in  the  guard-room.  The 
original  is  to  be  seen  in  the  Trumbull  Gallery  of 
Yale  College,  together  with  a  lock  of  his  hair, 
which  was  taken  from  his  coilin  at  the  time  his 
remains  were  removed  from  Tappan  to  England. 
He  made  a  present  of  this  sketch  to  the  officer 
on  guard.  An  accurate  copy  forms  the  frontis- 
piece to  the  present  volume. 

It  was  now  made  known  to  him  that  he  must 
die  at  one  o'clock  on  the  following  day,  the  2d  of 
October  ;  he  received  the  tidings  with  composure, 
betraying  nothing  like  fear,  merely  remarking  that 


ANDRE'S  EXECUTION.  271 

since  it  was  his  lot  to  die,  he  had  a  choice  in  the 
mode.  Upon  which,  he  sat  down  and  addressed 
a  letter  to  Washington,  as  follows  :  — 

"  SIR  :  —  Buoyed  above  the  terror  of  death  by 
the  consciousness  of  a  life  devoted  to  honorable 
pursuits,  and  stained  with  no  action  that  can  give 
me  remorse,  I  trust  that  the  request  I  make  to 
your  Excellency  at  this  serious  period,  and  which 
is  to  soften  my  last  moments,  will  not  be  rejected. 
Sympathy  towards  a  soldier  will  surely  induce 
your  Excellency  and  a  military  tribunal  to  adapt 
the  mode  of  my  death  to  the  feelings  of  a  man 
of  honor. 

"  Let  me  hope,  sir,  that  if  aught  in  my  charac- 
ter impresses  you  with  esteem  towards  me ;  if 
aught  in  my  misfortunes  marks  me  as  the  victim 
of  policy  and  not  of  resentment,  I  shall  experi- 
ence the  operation  of  these  feelings  in  your  breast 
by  being  informed  that  I  am  not  to  die  on  a 
gibbet." 

This  was  a  touching  appeal  from  an  unhappy 
man,  who  desired  to  be  shot  rather  than  hanged. 
But  Washington  could  give  him  no  hope  that  his 
request  would  be  granted.  The  fate  of  the  spy 
was  hanging  on  the  gibbet ;  the  board  of  general 
officers  had  decided  that  Andr6  was  a  spy ;  and, 


272  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

according  to  the  laws  of  war,  he  must  expect  to 
meet  with  death  in  the  ignominious  manner  he 
so  dreaded  and  detested.  It  was  indeed  a  hard 
fate  for  him ;  but  lie  had  voluntarily  brought  it 
upon  himself,  and  his  punishment  must  serve  as 
a  standing  example  for  the  warning  of  others. 
Still,  Washington  was  merciful,  even  while  sternly 
pursuing  the  course  of  his  duty  ;  since  he  could 
not  grant  Andrews  last  request,  ho  saved  his  feel- 
ings as  much  as  possible  by  keeping  him  ignor- 
ant of  the  mode  of  his  death  to  the  last. 

The  morning  of  the  2d  came.  Andre  was  as 
composed  as  ever;  all  around  him  were  sensibly 
filled  with  a  sympathy  that  gave  them  indescriba- 
ble pain.  His  servant  came  into  his  apartment, — 
the  same  who  had  come  up  with  his  uniform 
from  New  York  to  tend  him  in  his  last  mo- 
ments,—  and  could  not  keep  back  the  flow  of 
tears  as  he  looked  at  his  still  pleasant  face. 
"Leave  me,"  said  Andr£  to  him,  "till  you  CUM 
show  yourself  more  manly." 

Dr.  Thatcher,  who  was  present  during  the 
whole  scene,  thus  graphically  sketches  it :  — 

"  His  breakfast  being  sent  to  him  from  the 
table  of  General  Washington,  which  had  been 


ANDRE'S  EXECUTION.  273 

done  every  day  of  his  confinement,  he  partook  of 
it  as  usual,  and,  having  shaved  and  dressed  him- 
self, he  placed  his  hat  on  the  table,  and  cheerfully 
said  to  the  guard-officers,  "  I  am  ready  at  any 
moment,  gentlemen,  to  wait  on  you." 

"  The  fatal  hour  having  arrived,  a  large  detach- 
ment of  troops  was  paraded,  and  an  immense 
concourse  of  people  assembled ;  almost  all  our 
general  and  field  officers,  excepting  his  Excellency 
and  his  staff,  were  present  on  horseback ;  melan- 
choly and  gloom  pervaded  all  ranks ;  the  scene 
was  affecting  and  awful. 

"  I  was  so  near  during  the  solemn  march  to 
the  fatal  spot,  as  to  observe  every  movement  and 
participate  in  every  emotion,  which  the  melan- 
choly scene  was  calculated  to  produce.  Major 
Andre  walked  from  the  stone  house,  in  which  he 
hud  been  confined,  between  two  of  our  subaltern 
officers,  arm  in  arm ;  the  eyes  of  the  immense 
multitude  were  fixed  on  him,  who,  rising  superior 
to  the  fear  of  death,  appeared  as  if  conscious 
of  the  dignified  deportment  which  he  displayed. 

"  He  betrayed  no  want  of  fortitude,  but  retained 
a  complacent  smile  on  his  countenance,  and 
politely  bowed  to  several  gentlemen  whom  he 


274  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

knew,  which  was  respectfully  returned.  It  was 
his  earnest  desire  to  be  shot,  as  being  the  mode 
of  death  most  conformable  to  the  feelings  of  a 
military  man,  and  he  had  indulged  the  hope  that 
his  request  would  be  granted.  At  the  moment, 
therefore,  when  suddenly  he  came  in  view  of  the 
gallows,  he  involuntarily  started  backward  and 
made  a  pause.  '  Why  this  emotion,  sir  ? '  said 
an  officer  by  his  side.  Instantly  recovering  his 
composure,  he  said,  —  'I  am  reconciled  to  my 
death,  but  I  detest  the  mode.' 

"  While  waiting  and  standing  near  the  gal- 
lows, I  observed  some  degree  of  trepidation ; 
placing  his  foot  on  a  stone,  and  rolling  it  over, 
and  choking  in  his  throat,  as  if  attempting  to 
swallow.  So  soon,  however,  as  he  perceived 
that  things  were  in  readiness,  he  stepped  quickly 
into  the  wagon,  and  at  this  moment  he  appeared 
to  shrink ;  but  instantly  elevating  his  head  with 
firmness,  he  said,  — '  It  will  be  but  a  momentary 
pang!'  and,  taking  from  his  pocket  two  white 
handkerchiefs,  the  provost  marshal  with  one 
loosely  pinioned  his  anus;  and  with  the  other, 
the  victim,  after  taking  oft  his  hat  and  stock,  ban- 
daged his  own  eyes  with  perfect  firmness,  which 


ANDRE'S  EXECUTION.  275 

melted  the  hearts  and  moistened  the  cheeks  not 
only  of  his  servant,  but  of  the  throng  of  specta- 
tors. The  rope  being  appended  to  the  gallows, 
he  slipped  the  noose  over  his  head  and  adjusted 
it  to  his  neck  without  the  assistance  of  the  execu- 
tioner. Colonel  Scammell  now  informed  him 
that  he  had  an  opportunity  to  speak,  if  he  desired 
it.  He  raised  his  handkerchief  from  his  eyes,  and 
said,  — '  I  pray  you  to  bear  me  witness  that  I 
meet  my  fate  like  a  brave  man.'  The  wagon 
being  now  removed  from  under  him,  he  was  sus- 
pended and  instantly  expired." 

His  conduct  from  first  to  last  was  that  of  a 
polished,  generous,  and  courageous  person.  His 
step  to  the  gallows  was  firm,  and  he  betrayed  no 
emotion  save  when  he  was  first  made  aware  of 
the  mode  of  his  violent  death.  He  was  com- 
posed in  his  mind,  and  his  countenance  showed 
that  he  had  made  up  his  resolution  to  meet  his 
fate  without  fear  or  flinching.  He  wore  his  own 
uniform,  which  was  that  of  a  British  officer. 
After  the  body  had  been  suffered  to  hang  till  life 
was  extinct,  it  was  taken  down  and  buried  only 
a  few  yards  distant.  His  servant  attended  him 
till  all  was  over,  and  remained  till  the  sods  were 


276  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

placed  over  his  grave.  The  military  uniform  was 
taken  from  the  body  before  burial,  and  given  to 
this  faithful  servant. 

Such  was  the  melancholy  end  of  a  young  and 

• 

brave  man,  whose  name  is  never  mentioned  save 
with  a  feeling  of  sympathetic  regret  The  news 
of  his  death  was  at  once  despatched  to  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  who  in  turn  published  it  to  the  British 
army.  "  The  unfortunate  fate  of  this  officer," 
said  he,  "  calls  upon  the  commander-in-chief  to 
declare  that  he  ever  considered  Major  Andr4  a 
gentleman  of  the  highest  integrity  and  honor,  and 
incapable  of  any  base  action  or  unworthy  con- 
duct." Not  a  syllable  was  said  respecting  either 
the  cause  or  the  manner  of  his  unfortunate  end. 

A  monument  was  erected  to  the  memory  of 
Major  Andrtf  in  Westminster  Abbey,  by  order 
of  the  king.  In  1821,  his  remains  were  disin- 
terred, and  carried  over  to  England,  where  they 
were  buried  again  near  by  the  monument  In 
striking  contrast  is  this  with  the  death  and  burial 
of  young  Capt.  Nathan  Hale,  the  martyr  spy, 
who  was  hanged  by  the  notorious  Cunningham 
on  the  morning  after  his  capture.  He  was  not 
permitted  to  see  a  bible  before  he  died ;  and  the 


ANDRE'S  EXECUTION.  277 

affectionate  letter  he  had  written  his  mother  was 
wantonly  torn  in  pieces  before  his  eyes.  No 
spot  is  pointed  out,  that  can  be  named  as  the 
place  of  his  burial.  Andrei  expired,  exclaiming 
that  he  wished  them  "to  bear  witness  that  he 
died  like  a  brave  man ; "  Nathan  Hale's  last 
words  were,  —  "I  only  regret  that  I  have  but  one 
life  to  lose  for  my  country ! " 

The  captors  of  Andr£  were  recommended  to 
the  attention  of  Congress  by  Washington,  as 
having  averted  the  heaviest  calamity  that  could 
have  befallen  the  American  arms.  Congress 
publicly  voted  them  patriots,  presented  each  of 
them  with  a  farm,  settled  on  them  a  pension  of 
two  hundred  dollars  a  year  for  life,  and  ordered 
to  be  struck  a  silver  medal,  bearing  on  one  side 
the  engraved  word  FIDELITY,  and  on  the  other, 
the  motto  Vincit  amor  Patrice.  Washington  pre- 
sented these  medals  to  them  at  head-quarters 
with  much  ceremony.  It  is  said  that  Van  Wart, 
one  of  the  captors,  was  present  at  Andre's  execu- 
tion, and  was  so  deeply  moved  by  what  he  saw 
that  he  never  wished  to  speak  of  the  event  after- 
wards. 

Smith  was  arrested  and  tried  on  a  charge  of 

34 


278  BENEDICT    ARNOLD. 

being  concerned  in  the  plot  of  treason  ;  but  the 

» 

court  found  nothing  against  him.  "Yet  thru- 
were  some  points  in  his  conduct  that  have  never 
been  made  clear  to  this  day.  He  was  either  the 
deepest  of  knaves,  or  the  greatest  of  fools. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

A  TRAITOR'S  BARBARITIES. 

ARNOLD  was  now  made  a  brigadier-gen- 
eral in  the  British  army.     He  thus  held 
rank  with  honorable  men ;  and  he  lived 
to  know  that  by  those  men  he  was  scorned  and 
detested.     Clinton  paid  over  to  him,  as  agreed, 
six  thousand,  three  hundred  and  fifteen  pounds 
sterling,  as  the  sum  necessary  to  make  up  what 
he  had  lost  by  his  treachery. 

Col.  Laurens,  the  aid-de-camp  to  Washington, 
remarked  of  the  fate  of  Andre",  that  "  Arnold 
must  undergo  a  punishment  comparatively  more 
severe,  in  the  permanent,  increasing  torment  of  a 
mental  hell."  But  Washington  replied  that  he 
lacked  feeling.  "  From  some  traits  of  his  char- 
acter," said  he,  "  which  have  lately  come  to  my 
knowledge,  he  seems  to  have  been  so  hackneyed 
in  villany,  and  so  lost  to  all  sense  of  honor  and 


280  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

shame,  that,  while  his  faculties  will  enable  him 
to  continue  his  sordid  pursuits,  there  will  be  no 
time  for  remorse."  He  also  wrote  to  Governor 
Reed,  of  Pennsylvania,  —  "Arnold's  conduct  is 
so  villanously  perfidious,  that  there  are  no  terms 
that  can  describe  the  baseness  of  his  heart.  That 
overruling  Providence  which  has  so  often  and  so 
remarkably  interposed  in  our  favor,  never  mani- 
fested itself  more  conspicuously  than  in  the  timely 
discovery  of  his  horrid  intention  to  surrender  the 
post  and  garrison  of  West  Point  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy.  The  confidence  and  folly 

which  have  marked  the  subsequent  conduct  of 
this  man,  are  of  a  piece  with  his  villany,  and  all 
three  are  perfect  in  their  kind." 

Arnold  was  nowise  satisfied,  however,  in  his 
new  position  and  among  his  new  friends ;  and  he 
.therefore  published  an  address  to  the  Inhabitants 
of  America,  in  which  he  sought  to  defend  his 
conduct.  He  said  he  had  always  considered  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  to  be  hasty  and  ill- 
considered  ;  and  he  blamed  Congress  for  having 
plunged  the  people  into  a  long  and  expensive 
war,  without  first  submitting  the  matter  to  their 
vote.  And  as  a  final  argument,  he  declared  that 


A  TRAITOR'S  BARBARITIES.  28i 

he  could  have  nothing  further  to  do  with  a  cause 
which  ha<l  for  an  ally  such  an  enemy  to  Protest- 
antism as  France !  This  was,  indeed,  "  Satan 
rebuking  sin !" 

He  likewise  published  a  proclamation,  inviting 
the  officers  and  soldiers  of  the  American  army  to 
leave  a  sinking  and  unworthy  cause,  and  join  the 
side  of  the  king  for  true  American  liberty;  and 
ho  offered  large  amounts  to  such  as  would  desert, 
with  additional  pay  for  whatever  they  might 
bring  over  with  them  that  would  be  useful  in 
war. 

Both  the  address  and  the  proclamation  were 
treated  with  supreme  contempt.  Washington 
said  of  the  address,  —  "I  am  at  a  loss  which  to 
admire  most,  the  confidence  of  Arnold  in  pub- 
lishing it,  or  the  folly  of  the  enemy  in  suppos- 
ing that  a  production  signed  by  so  infamous  a 
character  will  have  any  weight  with  the  people 
of  Ihese  States,  or  any  influence  upon  our  officers 
abroad."  No  such  desertions  followed  from  his 
proclamation  as  he  expected.  It  was  all  nothing 
more  than  a  trick  to  make  Clinton  and  the  Brit- 
ish think  him  a  person  of  vastly  more  influence 
and  importance  than  he  was. 
24* 


282  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

Arnold's  wife  left  her  husband's  former  quarters 
at  the  Robinson  House,  and  went  immedia  Ay  to 
her  father  in  Philadelphia.  She  had  at  one  time 
resolved  to  separate  from  her  husband  altogether ; 
but  she  was  prevented  from  doing  this  by  the 
course  pursued  by  the  executive  council  of  Penn- 
sylvania. They  thought  she  was  privy  to  his 
treachery  from  the  time  his  mind  first  conceived 
the  infamous  thought ;  and  they  therefore  told 
her  she  must  quit  the  State  within  fourteen  days, 
and  not  return  as  long  as  the  war  continued.  Her 
friends  tried  to  influence  the  council  to  milder 
measures,  but  to  no  purpose.  Her  father  prom- 
ised them  that  she  should  not  write  to  General 
Arnold,  and  she  signed  a  writing  to  the  same 
purpose ;  and  she  further  engaged  "  to  receive  no 
letters  without,  showing  them  to  the  council,  if 
she  was  permitted  to  stay." 

But.  they  would  hear  nothing  to  it.  She  was 
absolutely  driven  out  of  Pennsylvania,  and  forced 
to  rejoin  her  husband  in  New  York.  The  people 
were  so  incensed  at  the  conduct  of  Arnold,  that 
thv,-y  burned  him  in  effigy  in  almost  every  town 
and  village.  Of  course,  journeying  on  to  her 
husband,  she  could  not  but  be  made  aware  of 


A  TRAITOR'S  BARBARITIES.  283 

these  transactions ;  but  she  never  was  treated 
with  any  disrespect  herself  on  her  husband's 
account.  She  came  into  one  village  just  at  even- 
ing ;  the  inhabitants  were  making  ready  to  burn 
him  in  effigy ;  a  great  excitement  pervaded  the 
place ;  but  as  soon  as  it  was  known  that  she  was 
among  them,  they  all  dispersed  to  their  homes, 
and  refused  to  add  to  the  poignancy  of  the  wife's 
sufferings  by  publicly  showing  their  detestation 
of  the  husband's  crime.  She  went  from  this 
country  along  with  him,  at  the  close  of  the  war, 
to  England,  where  her  own  character,  position, 
and  youth  helped  a  little  to  sustain  him  in  the 
eyes  of  the  world ;  and  at  the  expiration  of  five 
years,  she  returned  to  Philadelphia.  But  her  old 
friends  treated  her  with  so  much  coldness  that 
she  resolved  not  to  trouble  them  with  her  presence 
again.  Her  death  took  place  during  the  winter 
of  1796.  There  is  no  evidence  in  existence  that 
she  ever  knew  of  the  design  of  her  husband  to 
betray  his  country,  until  he  confessed  all  at  the 
moment  of  his  flight. 

In  the  latter  part  of  December,  and  about  two 
months  after  his  treason,  Arnold  received  from 
Sir  Henry  Clinton  the  command  of  a  force  of 


284  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

sixteen  hundred  men,  which  sailed  from  New 
York  for  the  coast  of  Virginia.  The  British 
troops  in  that,  quarter  had  been  recently  drawn 
off  to  aid  Cornwall  is,  who  was  operating  against 
the  Carolinas ;  and  Arnold  was  despatched  to 
hold  the  Virginians  in  check,  if  they  should 
think  of  making  any  movement  to  unite  with 
General  Greene.  He  established  his  post  at 
Portsmouth,  on  Elizabeth  River,  where  he  got 
ready  boats  of  light  draught  to  send  up  Albe- 
marle  Sound  and  the  Chesapeake  Bay.  Still, 
Sir  Henry  Clinton  put  but  little  faith  in  him,  and 
accordingly  sent  along  two  other  officers  with  the 
expedition,  with  whom  Arnold  was  to  consult 
and  advise  before  taking  any  step  in  that  region. 
They  experienced  rough  weather  off  the  coast. 
and  the  vessels  were  separated;  but  on  the  30th 
of  December  they  all  met,  with  the  exception  of 
one  ship  and  three  transports,  having  four  hun- 
dred men  on  board,  in  Hampton  Roads;  these 
last  arrived  five  days  after,  having  lost  half  the 
cavalry  horses,  and  been  obliged  to  throw  many 
of  their  heavy  guns  into  the  sea.  Arnold  went 
straight  into  the  country,  and  began  his  career  of 
burning,  destroying,  plundering  and  cruelty. 


A  TRAITOR'S  BARBARITIES  285 

Having  thus  struck  terror  into  the  hearts  of  the 
inhabitants,  he  withdrew  again  to  his  post  at 
Portsmouth. 

Lafayette  and  others  laid  a  plan  to  capture 
him  there,  and  it  came  very  near  being  successful. 
Washington  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  plan,  and 
would  have  been  rejoiced  to  take  the  traitor 
alive;  but  circumstances  alone  protected  him. 
If  he  had  been  captured  by  the  Americans,  it  was 
"Washington's  fixed  resolution  to  have  him  hanged 
at  once. 

While  Arnold  subsequently  held  command  of 
the  army  in  Virginia,  General  Phillips  having 
died  there  and  left  it  to  him,  he  sent  a  flag  of 
truce  to  Lafayette,  with  a  letter.  Lafayette 
received  the  letter  and  opened  it ;  but  the  mo- 
ment he  saw  the  name  of  Arnold  signed  at  the 
bottom,  he  utterly  refused  to  read  it,  and  told  the 
officer  who  brought  it  that  he  would  have  no 
communication  whatever  with  such  a  villain. 
Even  Lord  Cornwallis,  who  afterwards  carne  to 
Virginia  with  his  forces,  and  finally  surrendered 
to  the  Americans  at  Yorktown,  told  Lafayette 
that  as  soon  as  he  arrived  he  sent  Arnold  down 
to  Portsmouth,  for  he  would  never  consent  to 
associate  with  a  person  of  such  a  character. 


28G  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 

An  American  captain  was  taken  prisoner  while 
Arnold  was  in  Virginia,  and  the  latter  asked  him 
what  he  thought  his  countrymen  would  do  with 
him,  if  he  should  fall  into  their  hands.  "  They 
will  cut  off  the  leg  which  was  wounded  while 
you  were  fighting  for  the  cause  of  liberty,"  said 
he,  "and  bury  it  with  the  honors  of  war;  and 
the  rest  of  your  body  they  will  hang  on  a  gib- 
bet!" 

In  April,  1781,  Arnold  returned  to  New  York. 
During  that  summer  he  did  nothing.  But  in 
September,  Clinton  despatched  him  on  a  ravag- 
ing expedition  against  New  London,  in  Con- 
necticut, but  a  few  miles  from  the  spot  on  which 
he  was  born.  There  were  valuable  stores  col- 
lected in  that  town,  and,  being  a  fine  seaport, 
it  was  easily  approached  by  the  enemy's  vessels. 
He  had  full  license  to  plunder  and  destroy ;  and 
his  conduct  showed  his  true  character.  All  his 
old  resentments  he  now  felt  that  he  had  an 
opportunity  to  wreak  upon  his  friends  and  neigh- 
bors ;  whatever  ranklings  he  felt  in  his  heart,  he 
determined  now  with  a  sullen  and  fiendish  malice 
to  gratify. 

He   marched  with  a  force  of   about   twenty- 


A  TRAITOR'S  BARBARITIES.  287 

throe  hundred  men  to  the  extreme  eastern  end  of 
Long  Island,  from  which  point  he  crossed  the 
Sound  and  landed  at  the  mouth  of  the  Thames 
river.  There  he  divided  his  command  into  two 
bodies.  New  London  lies  on  the  west  bank  of 
the  river,  and  about  three  miles  from  its  mouth ; 
and  the  town  is  protected  by  two  forts,  —  Fort 
Trumbull  on  the  west  side,  and  Fort  Griswold 
on  the  east. 

As  soon  as  he  made  his  appearance  before  the 
former,  the  garrison  deserted  it  and  fled  back- 
wards upon  the  city ;  his  troops  outnumbered 
what  they  could  bring  together  before  the  place, 
and  a  resolute  defence  would  have  been  of  no 
avail.  The  detachment  that  he  sent  over  on  the 
east  side  against  Fort  Griswold,  met  with  a  stout 
resistance.  This  fort  stood  upon  quite  high 
ground,  and  held  a  commanding  position.  Col. 
Ledyard  was  in  command,  —  the  brother  of  the 
celebrated  traveller,  John  Ledyard.  The  little 
garrison  made  a  most  determined  defence,  and 
killed  one  officer  after  another  who  led  on  the 
British  over  the  walls.  One  of  the  officers  fell  at 
the  hands  of  a  negro,  who  ran  him  through  with 
a  spear.  At  length,  however,  a  foothold  was 


288  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

gained  within  the  works,  though  the  enemy  suf- 
fered badly  before  they  secured  it  Col.  Ledyard 
ordered  the  garrison  to  cease  further  resistance, 
and  prepared  to  surrender.  Offering  his  sword 
by  the  handle  to  the  advancing  British  officer,  the 
latter  demanded  —  "  Who  commands  this  fort, 
sir  ?  "  "  /  did,  sir,"  answered  Ledyard,  in  a  manly 
voice,  "  but  you  do  now."  Upon  which  the  heart- 
less barbarian  seized  the  sword  extended  to  him, 
and  plunged  it  through  the  brave  Ledyard's  heart 
He  fell  dead  at  his  feet  The  vest  he  wore  on 
that  bloody  day  is  still  preserved  in  the  Wads- 
worth  Athenaeum,  at  Hartford,  and  the  rent  is  to 
be  seen  through  which  his  noble  spirit  was  let  out 
to  heaven. 

After  consummating  a  barbarity  like  this,  the 
enemy  put  the  entire  garrison  to  the  sword,  spar- 
ing not  a  single  one  of  them.  One  hundred  and 
five  valiant  and  true  men  on  that  day  were 
enrolled  on  the  list  of  the  immortal  names  in  our 
country's  history.  The  blood  in  the  fort  flowed 
in  streams,  and  the  officers  and  soldiers  were  com- 
pelled to  wade  in  it  The  dead,  dying,  and 
wounded  Americans  were  picked  up  and  piled 
together  indiscriminately  in  a  wagon,  which  was 


A  TRAITOR'S  BARBARITIES.  289 

set  going  from  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  rushed  on 
with  all  speed  to  the  bottom.  It  struck  a  tree  just 
before  it  reached  the  foot,  throwing  out  some  of 
the  dying  ones  with  the  shock,  and  extorting  deep 
groans  and  piercing  shrieks  of  anguish  from  lips 
that  even  then  were  almost  mute  in  death.  So 
cruel  and  barbarous  a  mode  of  torture  to  the  per- 
sons of  helpless  captives,  was  never  before  re- 
corded among  the  practices  of  a  civilized  nation. 
What  makes  the  affair  still  more  terrible  to  con- 
template, the  commander  to  whom  the  fort  was 
surrendered  was  a  native  of  American  soil;  and, 
like  the  traitor  Arnold  himself,  the  main  body  of 
these  barbarians  in  disguise  were  heartless  refu- 
gees from  the  cause  of  their  country.  The  names 
of  those  whose  lives  were  given  as  a  forfeit  to 
Liberty  on  that  memorable  day,  are  chiselled  on 
a  tall  granite  shaft  whose  shadow  daily  falls 
across  the  spot  where  they  fell  fighting. 

Arnold  himself  marched  on  New  London  after 
capturing  Fort  Trumbull,  and  set  fire  to  the  town. 
It  is  said  that  he  climbed  up  into  the  belfry  of  a 
steeple,  and  from  that  perch  looked  down,  like 
Nero  upon  Rome,  on  the  devastation  of  which 
he  was  the  author.  Families  fled  on  this  side 
25 


290  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

and  that  in  wild  dismay,  unable  to  save  any- 
thing from  the  sudden  wreck  of  their  household 
treasures.  The  rich  became  poor  in  an  hour. 
All  were  placed  upon  a  common  footing,  and  all 
became  sufferers  and  destitute  alike.  Arnold'.- 
memory  could  not  have  failed,  at  that  hour,  to 
remind  him  of  a  similar  scene  in  the  village  of 
Danbury,  when  he  was  himself  spurring  on  his 
horse  to  overtake  Tryon,  who  played  the  ruthless 
incendiary  there.  But  what  his  thoughts  must 
have  been,  as  he  contemplated  the  flames  rolling 
about  the  roofs  of  a  peaceful  population,  and 
many  of  them,  too,  known  to  him  from  his  boy- 
hood up,  —  it  is  not  for  us  to  attempt  to  tell.  He 
must  have  felt  that  he  was  what  Jefferson  called 
him,  when  he  made  his  destructive  incursion  into 
Virginia, — a  parricide.  The  past  had  no  recol- 
lections so  sweet,  that  they  could  avert  his  inhu- 
man resolution  from  the  pursuit  of  its  own  cruel 
course.  His  heart  was  become  like  stone.  A 
merciless  fate  was  forcing  him  on. 

He  withdrew  with  his  forces  after  this  act  of 
barbarism,  having  had  time  barely  to  escape  the 
aroused  vengeance  of  his  countrymen  ;  and  this 
was  the  last  appearance  he  ever  made  in  a  public 


A  TRAITOR'S  BARBARITIES.  291 

capacity  in  the  country.  He  remained  quiet  in 
New  York  till  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis  at 
Yorktown,  which  was  practically  the  end  of  the 
war.  The  officers  of  the  British  army  scorned 
and  detested  him,  and  Sir  Henry  Clinton  saw 
how  unwilling  they  were  to  serve  near  his  person ; 
he  therefore  offered  him  a  passage  with  his  family 
to  England,  and  in  the  month  of  December,  1781, 
the  outcast  set  sail  accordingly.  It  were  better 
to  have  even  an  enemy  upon  our  soil,  than  the 
foot  of  a  traitor. 

From  this  time  forward,  little  was  known  and 
much  less  was  said  about  him.  He  sank  grad- 
ually out  of  notice.  For  twenty  years  after  this 
he  lived,  and  made  an  effort  to  be  a  man  among 
men ;  but  the  load  of  infamy  which  he  had  to 
carry  on  his  shoulders,  was  as  much  as  mortal 
man  could  bear.  There  are  several  anecdotes  re- 
lated of  his  meanness  and  duplicity,  wnien  came 
out  subsequently;  but  nothing  can  add  an  iota  to 
the  weight  of  the  damnation  under  which  he 
labored  already. 

While  he  was  in  London,  the  question  of  nego- 
tiating a  peace  with  the  United  States  was  talked 
of ;  and  parliament  presented  a  bill  to  that  effect 


292  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

to  the  king.  Arnold  was  seen  standing  near  the 
throne.  One  of  the  Lords  declared  aloud,  that 
"  however  gracious  might  be  the  language  he  had 
heard  from  the  throne,  his  indignation  could  not 
but  be  highly  excited  at  beholding  his  majesty 
supported  by  a  traitor ! "  Another  Lord  had  risen 
to  speak,  on  another  occasion,  when  he  chanced 
to  observe  Arnold  in  the  gallery.  Instantly  he 
took  his  seat  again,  and,  pointing  with  his  finger 
at  him,  exclaimed  in  a  loud  voice,  —  "I  will  not 
speak  while  that  man  is  in  the  House  1 " 

Some  time  after  the  peace,  Arnold  came  over 
to  St.  Johns,  in  New  Brunswick,  and  embarked 
once  more  in  the  West  India  trade.  The  govern- 
ment aided  him,  furnishing  him  with  contracts  to 
supply  provisions  to  their  troops  in  Jamaica.  He 
prospered  greatly,  building  ships  and  sending 
them  out  to  the  West  Indies  on  profitable  ven- 
tures. His  style  of  living  was  as  ostentatious 
and  extravagant  as  when  he  was  in  command  of 
the  city  of  Philadelphia.  The  population  of  St 
Johns  was  made  up  chiefly  of  persons  who  had 
fled  from  the  United  States,  and  had  settled  there 
after  the  war. 

Arnold  soon  grew  as  unpopular  in  that  plac»  a« 


A  TRAITOR'S  BARBARITIES.  293 

he  made  himself  in  every  other.  He  had  two 
ware-houses,  in  which  his  goods  were  stored,  and 
while  he  was  gone  to  England  one  of  them  was 
burned  in  the  night  to  the  ground.  Two  of  his 
sons  slept  in  the  building  that  night,  but  could 
give  no  explanation  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
fire  was  set  Suspicions  were  soon  excited  that 
there  was  foul  play  in  the  case,  especially  as  it 
was  known  that  the  building  and  goods  were  in- 
sured for  a  very  large  amount  A  suit  with  the 
company  grew  out  of  this  affair,  but  Arnold  at 
last  recovered  his  insurance. 

Yet  the  people  of  St.  Johns  weje  not  satisfied. 
They  believed  him  a  knave.  Eager  to  express 
their  opinion  of  the  man,  therefore,  they  made  an 
effigy,  stuck  a  label  on  it  that  read  "  The  Traitor? 
and  hung  it  before  the  windows  of  his  house.  A 
mob  collected  around  it  very  rapidly.  They  grew 
so  tumultuous  that  an  officer  was  obliged  to 
make  his  appearance  and  read  the  Riot  Act  to 
them.  This  dispersed  them  for  a  time,  but  they 
soon  reassembled,  and  hung  up  the  effigy  for 
public  derision  again.  The  excitement  became 
so  intense  that  the  military  were  finally  called 

out;  but  the  people   gratified  their  feelings  by 
25* 


294  BENEDICT   ARNOLD. 

casting  the  effigy  into  the  flames,  before  they 
separated. 

Not  long  after  this,  it  is  supposed  that  he  left 
St  Johns,  and  went  over  to  England  again. 
There  he  remained  during  the  rest  of  his  life, 
occasionally  making  a  voyage  on  business  to  the 
West  Indies.  He  asked  for  a  command  in  the 
army  when  the  war  between  England  and  France 
broke  out,  but  the  government  were  obliged  to 
refuse  his  request,  since  not  a  single  officer  could 
be  found  who  would  serve  with  him.  By  high 
and  low  he  was  alike  detested.  Already  he  was 
himself  what  his  name  has  been  ever  since,  —  an 
outcast  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  His  death  took 
place  in  London,  on  the  14th  of  June,  1801,  —  he 
having  survived  his  second  wife  about  five  years, 
and  learned  in  a  long  course  of  twenty  years  how 
hard  a  thing  it  is  to  stem  the  torrent  of  the  world's 
scorn  and  indignation. 

It  is  told  that  at  the  approach  of  death,  he 
asked,  as  he  sat  in  his  chair,  to  have  his  old  Con- 
tinental uniform  brought  out,  —  the  same  in 
which  he  had  so  bravely  fought  the  battles  of  his 
native  country.  The  coat  was  put  upon  his 
shoulders,  and  he  looked  around  and  surveyed  his 


A  TRAITOR'S  BARBARITIES. 


295 


appearance  with  a  strange  mingling  of  emotions. 
While  thus  enveloped  in  the  insignia  of  a  glorious 
and  successful  Revolution,  and  no  doubt  smitten 
with  remorse  at  the  thought  of  the  crimes  for 
which  he  was  answerable,  —  alternately  toying 
with  the  honored  uniform  and  deploring  the  depth 
of  infamy  into  which  he  had  plunged  himself,  — 
life  took  its  departure,  and  the  soul  of  the  traitor 
went  to  another  world.  His  old  uniform  was  his 
winding  sheet.  He  had  lived  both  to  honor  and 
disgrace  it 

It  was  time  the  end  had  come. 


fx\-V^- v  S. 
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